An adult stories – New Thing Ch. 01 by EightyThousandEightyFive,EightyThousandEightyFive Jon ambled his way through the trendy little bistro with a dumb grin on his face. Call it naïve, call it foolish, but inspiration was inspiration, and when it hits you like a lightning bolt, your brain stops telling your muscles what to do. Right then, his muscles were moving him right to the back hallway he’d seen Trudy disappear into, the one that contained nothing but the restrooms, if memory served. He hoped memory served; he’d only been here a couple times, ever, and it’d been awhile at that.
Gonna get me some afternoon delight… Jon’s dumb grin got downright stupid then. And hopefully not arrested for public indecency. The risk was worth it; he knew it in his bones the second he’d spotted his wife coming into this bean juicery as he’d driven by. Usually he didn’t come this way for lunch, but errands put him into this part of town, near where Trudy worked, and he’d decided to swing by and say hi. Spotting her in her business casual skirt and sensible blouse had done… weird things to him. What she wore wasn’t salacious in the slightest, but it was just so different than the sweats and tees that constituted her usual homewear lately.
Heh, my tasty corporate perk. Gonna tear some buttons off with my teeth! Jon could feel himself get stiffer and stiffer as he neared the shady corridor in the lightly patronized bistro. It was only the instant that his hand touched the knob of the single-occupant restroom that he had the thought that Trudy probably… almost definitely… would have locked the door, but by then he’d already begun turning it, logic be damned. To his shock, it opened.
That got shock number one out of the way just in time for number two.
“Huhhh… ohhh… ohhh… huh, huh, huh…” Trudy’s breathy susurrations were escaping from red, parted lips, eased by her tongue darting out quickly to moisten them in-between exhalations. While she braced herself with one hand on the wall and the other on the sink fixture, her face was turned upward, eyes screwed shut and aimed at the ceiling, and her golden hair streamed down in waves behind her, shimmering in the noon-day light coming through the lone, high window in the small lavatory.
Jon could only stand there, his mind having nearly shut down in abject dumbfoundment, as he took all this in. All this, as well as the lips on his wife’s neck, and the hand under the lacy bra–now exposed through her unbuttoned, sensible blouse–plying one of the full breasts that Jon had been treasuring for over a decade.
That alone was enough to knock him back on his heels, and it took a long, drawn out moan from Trudy to force his eyes downward, where he finally was able to complete the picture; her very business-like skirt hiked up over her thigh-high nylons, and yet another hand under the sopping-wet panties now revealed to the world. More importantly; the fingers of that hand working feverishly to turn his bride into a mound of quivering jelly.
“Ungh, ungh, uhgn…” Trudy’s moans changed to grunts, and her bathroom buddy took it as a signal to move things along. Still oblivious to his presence, Trudy’s lunch date demonstrated a kind of skill and finesse that would have been impressive in any other setting. Any other in the world besides… this.
Down to one knee, panties pushed aside, Trudy’s leg propped up on a shoulder… and a mouth driving right for the honey pot. The sequence was executed with an expertly practiced flourish, which meant that Jon’s wife was bucking under her climax–nearly frightening in its intensity–in about ten seconds flat.
That was a good thing. If his life was going to shatter before his eyes, at least it wouldn’t be drawn out.
“Guuuhhhh…” Trudy braced her back against the wall, trying to both catch her breath and keep herself upright. Luckily for her and her immaculate business wear, she accomplished each of those goals. “Hell… that was… was the best one…” With a chuckle and a grin, she finally opened her eyes to look down on her lover. Problem was, to get there, those pretty blue orbs had to make it past the form of her husband first.
“Oh. Shit.”
From below, slightly muffled by the back of a hand swiping across the face, came a puzzled grunt. “What are you… oh. Shit. I can’t believe I forgot to lock the door again.”
Jon looked at the barista who’d just tongue-fucked his wife and, absurdly, what came out of his mouth was… a laugh. “Well, you’re like fifteen. No one expects you to not be stupid as hell.”
“I’m twenty, dipshit.” The girl with the neck-length, spiky, vividly purple hair narrowed her light brown, epicanthic eyes at him, and the sudden flush suffusing her made the intricate floral tattoo crawling up her neck from under her shirt positively pop. “And who the fuck are you anyway, you peeping moles–”
“Jon, baby…” Trudy, ignoring the exchange, was hastily trying to get herself straight again. The mis-buttoned blouse and lesbian lover, however, showed that her efforts were a bit lacking.
“Jon?” Said lesbian lover’s eyes widened. “Oh. Shit.”
“You said that already.” Jon’s brief, manic burst of desperate joviality was long gone. “Looks like your mouth is only good for one thing.” He locked Trudy with his eyes then, finally forcing himself to tear them away from the kid that had ruined his life, shook his head once, did a complete about-face, then marched himself right back the way he’d come while trying to tell himself that it was a tactical retreat.
“Wait… just… just wait!” The shouts were following him, but getting smaller. He supposed that was because he was practically sprinting out the door, combined with an undoubtedly awkward jumble for Trudy to navigate in that cramped place where she’d betrayed him.
Where she’d betrayed him today, at least. He was as sure it wasn’t the first time as he was that it would be the last.
__________
“Please don’t kill me.”
Jon had had a good half hour to get ready for this. Between driving like a maniac, and Trudy having to walk back to her office for her own car, he’d gotten home with time to spare, and made sure to order both himself and his thoughts. Well, as much as possible. He was, admittedly, a bit out of his depth. After all, he’d never been in quite this situation; the love of his life being revealed to have extra tastes. Extra… at best.
He sharpened his gaze at Trudy as she made her plea even while walking through their front door. When he didn’t say anything right away, she swallowed nervously and gently closed the door behind her, her mind clearly churning enough to keep her from realizing that it didn’t even latch.
“Baby, I can’t imagine what’s going through your head…” Trudy gingerly made her way towards where her husband was leaning against their little bar, arms crossed, trying to look as collected as possible. “I won’t… I can’t lie to you. It is what you think. Mostly.”
“Yeah?” Jon grunted and kept his face smooth. “This’ll be interesting. What do I think?”
“That I’ve gone crazy.”
One for her.
“That what you saw wasn’t the first time.”
…two for her…
“That you wonder if, even if you could ever forgive me…” At this, Trudy gave a small, hiccupping sniffle. “…would I want to still… still be with…” The sniffle became a sob, and she reached out a trembling hand to him. When he didn’t budge, it dropped to her side, still quivering.
“Congratulations, Trudy.” Jon sighed and averted his gaze from the crying wreck before him. “You know me. Shows just how one-sided our marriage really is.”
“No, no please.” Trudy tried again, but both arms came up this time, and, before he could react, her hands were under his elbows, squeezing on his chest. “I love you. Desperately. That hasn’t changed in the slightest, and… yes, if you can forgive me, if you’re willing to let me be a better person… I absolutely want to be a better wife. You… oh god, I’m so, so sorry.” She leaned in, pressing her face to his chest. “I stumbled. I fell. I… I don’t know what exactly happened to me. This… it’s… a new thing.” She gave a choked moan. “I’m not… I never deceived you about what I am. What I… enjoy.”
Jon didn’t push her away, but he remained unyielding in her arms. It was hard, he could admit that. In every other moment of their life together, Jon reveled in his wife’s touch. It got his motor running just as much on day three-thousand as on day one. Not today, though. Not now.
“So… what? You were seduced? Tattooed coffee-girl with her smoky eyeliner and punky hair was just fucking irresistible? Did she crook a finger while slithering away to the back of the shop, pulling your string like a goddamned puppet?”
“It… um, took longer than that.” Trudy pulled back to peer up at him, and the nervous look in her blue eyes increased by the second. “Not that it’s a defense, I guess. Me and Kristy got to know each other over… like, months, I suppose. We… uh… we clicked, you could say.”
“And then she double-clicked you.”
Trudy flinched. “I mean, if you want to just…” She sighed. “I never meant it to happen. I never… felt like that before with a woman. She just… she snaked herself right–” Her cheeks went red then. “I mean, she put herself into… oh god, there’s no good way to just… just talk about how I let a woman fuck me, is there?”
“There really isn’t.”
Trudy paused then, struggling. “And do you… maybe, possibly… think it’s…” She gave a little smile, full of so much hope. “…hot?”
“Hot?” Jon did push her away from him then. “Hot! Trudy, leave aside the betrayal… are you seriously asking if it turns me on to consider that the woman I love has chosen something I can’t even compete with? That I’m not what she wants, and probably never was?”
“Jon, no. Just… just no. That’s absolutely not true.” Trudy, showing some prudence, didn’t try to embrace him again. “I love you. You are my husband. The one I chose, the one I want to spend my life with. The one I wished I could have given… given children…”
Jon’s breath caught, and he felt a flash of sympathy despite himself. Lord, I thought she’d gotten better. She couldn’t have kids, they’d discovered that years before. He was disappointed, but she was devastated, and it took a long time for her to pull herself out of the morass. Lately, they’d even begun talking about adoption. Apparently, it was about the only important thing in their lives they had talked about.
Trudy wiped at her eyes and managed to stanch the tears this time. “Sorry. I know I shouldn’t have said a thing about it being hot, or whatever. It was pretty crass. This is real life, and what I did won’t just get a pass.” She stared at Jon then, holding his gaze for a good few seconds; enough that he got uncomfortable. It was right when he opened his mouth–vowing to stop letting her steer the confrontation–that she decide to drive the car right off a cliff.
“I have to make it up to you. We… you… have to be even if we can fix this. I…” Trudy bit her lip, suddenly shy. “…shit. Better to just do it.” She turned to the still-cracked front door. “Kristy. Now or never.”
Hearing those words, even seeing the door slowly swing open, didn’t impart any clarity on Jon. No, illumination didn’t come until she appeared; still in the bistro t-shirt and skin-tight black jeans–complete with little green apron, even–nervously running her fingers through her trendy, spiky purple hair, folded eyes aimed everywhere but at them.
Holy shit. Trudy went insane.
“Um… so, yeah. This, uh… this is happening. I guess.” The girl, Kristy, got very interested in a picture hanging next to her, turning to face it fully and running a finger along the frame.
“Jesus. You two cannot be saying what I think you’re saying.” Jon finally croaked out a response after a silence like the tomb threatened to crush all of them.
Trudy, biting her lip again so hard it turned white, finally went to open her mouth, but Jon’s response, or just something in the tone, opened up the floodgates.
“What the hell, dipshit? You can’t be this dense. Yes, it’s ex-fucking-actly what it sounds like; I’m gonna… gonna rock your goddamned world, okay?” Kristy’s face was full to the brim with indignation, and she forgot herself enough to actually stride right to the living room where her lover and maybe-lover were watching, nonplussed.
The kid–and that’s just how Jon thought of her in that moment–grabbed her chest with both hands and began… bouncing. “What, the thought of giving a good dicking to a hot young thing like me wilt your willy? Maybe that’s ’cause you and your wife both have secret–”
“Kristy!” Trudy gasped, eyes wide and mouth gaping. “What the hell? This is not how we discussed this!”
“Fuck.” Kristy dropped her voice and her hands both. “I… sorry. I get a little… I don’t always think about…”
Jon just shook his head, trying to figure out exactly when his life had become a giant joke. “Time to spell it out, you nutjobs. Start to finish, tell me what lunatic thing you have planned here, both of you. Plain talk, no hemming or hawing.”
Trudy slowly shook her own head at Kristy, her disappointment being shouted in the act, then turned back to her husband, took a deep breath, and let it all out. “Kristy and I had sex three times. I love you with all my heart, and I want to stay married to you. To that end, I want you and Kristy to have sex. Three times.” She took another gulp of air, then gave a small, hopeful smile. “Then, we start over. We… I fix what I did to us.”
“Starting now?”
Trudy blinked. “Uh… sure?”
“Okay then.”
In a flash, Jon reached out and took Kristy by her thin wrist, and the girl suddenly looked like she regretted letting her temper move her feet so close to the man. With a squawk, she followed along behind him, not pulling or fighting, but looking like she was shell-shocked the whole way to the master bedroom. They were both inside with the door closed behind them before she managed to formulate an actual word.
“Shit, man!”
Well, two words. The very essence of erudition.
“What, you all talk?” Jon loomed over the young, gawping woman, arms crossed and one brow raised expectantly. “You just got done telling me how you were gonna… what was it? Rock my goddamned world? Do kids your age even know what it means to put your money where your mouth–”
“Fuck yourself, dipshit.” Kristy shook off her trepidations immediately, then, in one smooth motion, reached up and peeled off her loose t-shirt. Not stopping there, her bra was gone in less time than it took to mention it, and when the performance was done, she stood in front of him, hands on her hips, daring him to make another jab at her.
Holy shit. “Holy shit.” Any barrier between Jon’s brain and his mouth was gone in that instant.
“Nice, huh?” Kristy reached up and cupped her tits with both hands, and Jon could only stare in shock at the amount of excess flesh that was squeezed between her long fingers. “No one expects the skinny little Asian girl to be packing ballistics like these, and that t-shirt they make me wear is like goddamned camouflage.”
She smirked then, and the look held more than its fair share of wickedness. “Can’t count how many women’s eyes I made pop when they saw ’em for the first time. Then the drooling starts, and they can’t stop…” Her wicked grin faltered in the face of what she saw in Jon then. “I mean… I just, know how to… I got plenty… um, in the past, that is… plenty of practice…”
“Why are you doing this?” Jon’s own bravado was rapidly fading as the reality he was so desperately trying to deny came roaring back with a vengeance. “Are you even Bi?”
Kristy suddenly found her foot fascinating, and began twisting it on the bedroom carpeting. “No. I’m not. I guess… I dunno.” She finally peeked up at him, her pretty eyes veiled by her long, dark lashes. “I’m not a bad person, but I know what I did to you. I want you and Trudy to… to make it. She’s talked about you and I know you’re a… that you don’t deserve…” She shrugged. “I need to be able to live with myself.”
Jon looked behind him, as if he could see through the closed door and what was still out there. Then, squaring his shoulders, he took a step towards the woman his wife had fucked repeatedly. “I guess we’re all crazy then.”
Kristy, watching his hands come towards her inch-by-slow-motion-inch, appeared to be nodding without meaning to. When his fingers touched the button on her jeans, all she did was give a long, resigned groan and squeeze her eyes shut.
Jon was fine with that.
__________
Trudy had been in her favorite recliner for almost forty-five minutes, and honestly couldn’t remember having sat down. To be fair, she wasn’t really sitting, more like perching on the edge of the cushion while staring down the hall that contained her bedroom.
What that bedroom contained… well, she could only imagine.
He… he just did it. She was shaking her head, but then again, she had been pretty much the entire time. He didn’t argue. He didn’t protest. He didn’t even try to set terms. He just… he took her.
“Hypocrisy, thy name is Trudy.” The nervous little giggle that followed the muttered words was edged with enough mania that the nearly middle-aged philanderer clamped her lips tight to stop anything else that might have been waiting in the wings. She knew she’d not been totally prepared for the implications of her… plan. Hell, it was a scheme she’d barely convinced Kristy to be a part of before it was presented to the man they’d both wronged. How on the planet would she have had time to work through all the ins and outs?
“Didn’t have to be so quick.” That mutter didn’t elicit a giggle, but did prompt her to put her face in her hands. “Fuck. What the hell was I think–”
“Aaaaahhh!”
The first sound Trudy heard coming from the bedroom shouldn’t have been heard at all. Not from this distance. Not through a closed door. Eyes wide, her mild headshaking became a full-blown fit of denial for many long seconds before the door crashed open and a haggard-looking Kristy came stumbling out of the place she’d been pulled into a lifetime ago.
“Kris… you… what…” Trudy didn’t know what she wanted to ask. She barely knew the words she was mumbling out like a drunkard… like the drunkard her lover appeared to be as well. The bistro girl had a haunted, detached look in her eye as she numbly fumbled at her clothing, ignoring her still-unbuttoned jeans in order to try to pull her t-shirt down to cover herself, and only managing to get the job half done. The undone half meant that one of the girl’s so-pert, so-perfect boobs was still bouncing unhindered, open and bare to the word, because there wasn’t a bra to be seen.
Nope. Nothing to hide the big, fresh, red hickey there on the wide, lower curve of that supple young titty.
“Kristy. Talk to me. Did… did I just screw things up even worse here?” Trudy, after internally slapping some coherency into herself, stood and faced the retreating young nymph who looked like a train wreck, with her vivid, spiky hair now matted and mussed.
“It’s fine. It was fine. A-Okay. Everything’s fan-fucking-tastic and a good old time was had by all.” Finally conquering her outfit, Kristy managed to stop her sprint for the front door long enough to give Trudy a long look. “I’ll… be in touch.”
Once the door to her home was slammed hard enough to rattle the glass, Trudy spun and marched straight for her bedroom. Inside was her dear husband, sitting on the edge of their bed, naked as naked could be, seemingly unaware that his half-mast dick was still wet and glistening like some kind of bad porno. What the fuck can I even say right now?
“Well?”
It’d have to do.
Jon rotated his head and blinked, looking very surprised to see her there. After a second, he raised his hand. “She forgot her bra.”
“Give me that.” Trudy snatched the lacy undergarment out of his loose grasp, then stepped back. “She ran out of here like… like…” She stopped and rubbed at her cheek with her free hand. “Jon, I know you’re not… I never imagine you could…” She closed her eyes. “You’re a good man. A great man… but this isn’t exactly a normal situation, I know this. I can’t… I really have no idea what’s inside you now, and anyone in your place would feel… anger. Maybe enough to–”
“Jesus fuck, Trudy. Are you really asking me if I… what? Hurt her? Is that where we are now? You think I somehow got a personality transplant just because you did?”
“No. God no. I’m sorry. It’s just…” Trudy groped, knowing that she was still far, far in the dark, but not knowing if she wanted any light to intrude. “She looked so… shaken.”
“She’s a lesbian who just had sex with a man. A man a fair bit older than her. A man who’s married to the one she actually wants to have sex with.” Jon laid it out with a flat, cold voice. “That shakes me, and I’m the damn victim here.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Trudy, without thinking, plopped herself down on the bed next to her husband. “You’re right. I… I have no idea what to think.” She laughed then. “Honestly, I have no idea what I’m doing. I just know I have to do it.” She looked over at him, wary. “I have to, because I can’t lose you. You’re my husband. My best friend. You… you’re the reason I get up in the morning, and the reason I come back here at night, and the… the reason I put one foot in front of the other… and, when I think of you, I always smile, and, heh, sometimes I sing to myself…”
Her slew of nervous platitudes was cut off by Jon’s lips on hers, and her sweet sigh into his mouth was a fantastically amazing release. When he finally pulled back, he was smiling, and so, of course, she cried.
“Oh, hey… don’t.” Jon wiped a tear away from his wife’s cheek. “Look, I… I love you. I know I always will. What you did… it tears me up. It does. It hurts, but I know your heart.” He put his hand over her chest, and the muscle inside skipped a beat. “But, holy hell, you really jumped into the whole redemption thing with both feet, I can’t deny that.”
Trudy put her head on his broad shoulder and gave a small, relieved laugh. “Thank-you. So fucking much. I don’t deserve you.” They stayed that way, not speaking for a few, calm minutes, but, eventually, Trudy had to open her mouth again. “Um… so… how was it?”
“Like fucking a mannequin.” Jon chuckled. “Surprise, surprise.”
Trudy started to laugh a little too… the situation was just too ridiculous… but then Jon kept going.
Later, Trudy would wonder how differently things would have turned out if he’d stopped at mannequin.
“I mean… like a hot mannequin, I can’t pretend otherwise. Her body… Well, you know.” Jon’s chuckles began abating, and he began sounding… mystified. That was the best word for it. “She was wet, though. Like, after just a little foreplay, she was ready to go. And, Jesus, that scream at the end! If she hadn’t jumped up like she’d been bit by a rattlesnake, I’d almost think she was… I dunno. Mocking me, or something.”
“I… I heard.”
Jon either didn’t catch or didn’t care about the thread of trepidation in his wife’s voice. “I’ll bet you did. My ears are still ringing.” He was quiet then, pondering something. “For a little bit, it was like…” He shook his head with a self-deprecating smile. “Forget it. I’m seeing what I… Never mind.”
“She’s… yeah. She’s something.” Trudy really, really wanted to change courses all of a sudden, so her hand went to her favorite railroad switch. “But you’re something better.” Her arm picked up the pace, and she leaned in to nuzzle her nose against his cheek. “And this is something fucking fantastic.”
At his first groan, Trudy was down, her wet mouth was wide, and her throat was stuffed right good. It took a bit–Jon having been drained not minutes before–but soon enough for her and her ego, he was giving her the lunch she should have had that day, and everything about it tasted amazing.
Trudy was barely able to wipe the remnants from her smiling lips before her husband was on her, pushing her insistently down onto their bed face first, then hauling her skirt up around her hips. “Jon… Jon! You… you’re being so…” She wriggled a bit, the sudden change in atmosphere shocking her. Unfortunately… or maybe the opposite… he took that as an invitation. Probably an unneeded one, though.
“Now we can both compare.”
With those ominous words, Jon shoved his scalding-hot cock right into her twat, causing his wife to have to bite the pillow in front of her to muffle her scream. Heedless, he began pounding her ass like it had a target painted on it, and that initial scream of hers was given a whole litter of siblings in no time flat.
“Mmmph! Mmmph! Gaaah!” The grunts and cries went on as she lied there, taking her husband’s… taking her husband.
He’s my mate. He’s the one I choose. He’s mine. I’m his. All of him. All of me.
The litany ran through her nearly as deeply as Jon’s dick, and finally, after a time she couldn’t begin to guess at, she felt him fill her completely. With a growl and groan, he collapsed onto her back, his bare skin wrinkling the blouse that he hadn’t bothered to get rid of before he began his bestial rutting. Luckily for her–he was not a slight man–Jon rolled off after a couple seconds to lie at her side, staring up at the ceiling.
“That… felt damn good.”
Trudy, after divesting herself of the office-wear she hoped wasn’t ruined, joined him in a post-coital cuddle, as she’d done countless times over the years. “I love you. I’ll always love you. My stupid brain will never get in the way of that, no matter what it…” She stopped, sighing. “Ignore me. I’m babbling again. I just… I’m happy.” She snuggled closer, pressing her forehead into his chest.
They slept together like that; her cleaved to him, him stroking her blonde locks.
It was… nice.
__________
“So, anyway… I think I’m gonna get that promotion. Between that, and Jon’s new long-term contracts, we might…” As she trailed off, Trudy tilted her head in that way that Jon was so familiar with. The one that said, what can I do?
“Really? Really, really?” Ava, on the other side of the fence that separated their yard from their neighbor’s, spread her arms wide. “You’ll be moving?” The olive-skinned woman nearly stomped her cute little foot, for all the world looking like she was about to throw a tantrum. “You guys are the best neighbors I’ve ever had! After Cecil…” The woman cleared her throat. “You know. I really never thought I’d find people that I’d love talking to so much. You can’t just take off on me!”
Jon laughed and put an arm around his wife. This wasn’t really odd for them, standing out in the elements, talking to their friend together past the fence. Other people would have just gone into one house or the other, but these chats were always random and spontaneous, and they’d learned years ago to just go with it. “Sorry, Ava, but we’re upwardly mobile types, don’t you know. We’ll be… I dunno… at least a good three or four miles from here, living in the lap of luxury.”
“Might as well be on the far side of the moon.” Trudy deadpanned, eyes dancing. “We’ll send you a postcard. People still do that, right?”
“People our age.” Ava chuckled. “Okay, okay. I get it. I’ll just have to put more effort into keeping you in my life, I suppose.” The dainty Mediterranean woman froze then, peering over her friends’ shoulders. “Speaking of people not our age…”
At a thrust of the woman’s chin, both Jon and Trudy turned. Then they froze, and, unlike Ava, their reason was well beyond a mild surprise.
“Uh… hi.” Kristy, standing at the gate to the yard, wearing an outfit that could only be described as vampy, was wringing her hands so thoroughly that Jon heard knuckles cracking. “I… we…”
“Cookies!” The word was barked out before Jon had a nanosecond to think, but he went with it out of abject desperation. “Delivery, right? The cookie delivery? What you’re here for?”
“Cookies?” Ava’s eyes scrunched. “She can’t be a…”
Oh fuck me. Jon ignored his friend, opting for speed and activity to spackle the cracks in his panicked lies. “Okay. All right. Inside then. Business to get to. With Cookies.” Ushering a silent Trudy alongside him, he opened the gate and pulled Kristy by her wrist once more, leading her into his home… once more. This time she only let out a small squeak instead of a full squawk, but she went along nonetheless, just as before.
“Okay… well, talk to you later. Call me, Trude. We’ll… all right then.” Ava tried to be the only civil person in the bunch, but with a barely-barked-out goodbye, her neighbors were gone, disappeared into their home with what was apparently the oldest Girl Scout in history.
The one who bore not a single sugary snack in her arms.
“That’s… interesting.” Ava’s eyes scrunched again, but for an entirely different reason this time.
__________
“It’s been a week, Kristy. I thought… I figured…” Jon groped for the right thing to say.
“Fuck you, dipshit.” Kristy snarled at him and waved the bottle of beer he’d given her, using it to drive her ire home. “I keep my fucking promises.”
She’s twenty. Twenty. The completely random thought put Jon inches from a laugh as he stared at the bottle of alcohol sloshing in front of him. I’m contributing of the corruption of the underaged.
“You gonna laugh at me now? Jesus, what’s wrong with you?”
Jon’s eyes went from the bottle to the tight, midriff-baring, low-cut top that, unlike her bistro shirt, did absolutely nothing to hide her amazing, obviously braless curves.
What’s wrong with me indeed?
“We just thought you’d… had enough.” Trudy spoke for the first time since her erstwhile mistake made her reappearance. “I used you… Jon, he’s okay now…”
Well… Jon frowned. Let’s not go nuts.
Things were… better. He had no trouble saying that. But better was only in comparison to how fucked up he’d been at the revelation of his wife’s affair. He was a long way from okay, that was for damn sure, but he was trying. He knew, for a certainty, that revenge sex wasn’t the cure for anyone’s ills. Hell, he was feeling like a sleaze for indulging once, and could only plead temporary insanity to justify it.
“Look, this is fucked.” Kristy eased up then, unclenching everything. Most everything. Jon still had the crazy thought that she was flexing her taut, toned, juicy ass in those shortest of short shorts she was sporting. “I’ve never been in this situation, but Trudy is also the first married woman I ever fucked. I’m not that person. I’m… I’m just not. Trudy you’re… sorry, but I lost my mind with you. Seriously.”
Trudy blushed and licked her lips unconsciously. “Believe me, I get it. Insanity enough to go around.”
“Yeah.” Kristy nodded, now a bit uncertain. “So… I have to make it right.”
“Look, it’s… fine. It’s right.” Jon tried to show her to the door. “Mission already accomplished.”
“The hell it is.” Kristy popped her barely-covered butt off the countertop she’d been leaning against. “Listen, dipshit, and listen good… this is for me. You’re all old and shit, but I still got a lot of years ahead of me. A lot of years that I gotta be able to look myself in fucking mirror for.”
“I don’t care what the hell you do with your mirror!” Jon was done with this little foulmouthed fox. “You don’t get to come into my home and make demands when you were the one–”
“Just do it.”
Trudy’s small declaration stopped both combatants short when they were mere inches from each other’s noses. Together, they turned to look at her, huddled there on the couch, and she couldn’t seem to be able to return the look. “Jon… I love you so, so much, but we both know I was lying. You’re not okay.” She finally, with supreme effort, raised her head. “And I made a promise. Kristy and I both did.” She smiled, small and sad. “It’s crazy… but show me that you’re a good man and have sex with this kid. Fuck her so we can… heal.”
Jon stared at his wife. Jon stared at Kristy. Back. Then back again. Finally, he snarled. “Lunatic women will kill me. I always knew that.”
He whipped around then, hooked one arm around Kristy’s narrow waist while weaving fingers through her unique hair, and pulled her close to plaster her face to his. He felt her own fingers on his shoulders for half a second before they dropped away again, but that was her only reluctance. Her lips… her tongue… were following his lead well enough. After some heavy, heady moments of mewls and sniffles from near and far, Jon let his consolation prize go, putting enough space between them to be able to lock eyes with her.
“Number two. Let’s get to it.”
__________
This time, Trudy watched.
This has to be the lowest moment in my life. How the goddamned hell did I wind up here, a stinking voyeur to my husband having sex with my lesbian side piece, in my own fucking bed? Trudy kept playing with her long, fair hair, twisting it and twisting it until it nearly matched her gut.
This wasn’t dramatic embellishment; anyone who’d caught her standing in the backyard of her sprawling, ranch-style home, nose nearly pressed on the window to her bedroom, peeking like peeper through the blinds that no one had bothered closing… well, that hypothetical person would agree with Trudy’s evaluation of herself without a second’s hesitation, that was for damned sure.
Still, she didn’t move. She endured. She made herself witness what happens when impulses are followed without stopping to examine them. Exactly whose impulses were under scrutiny, though… that shifted by the second.
The window she was at was shut all the way, but it was far from soundproof. Trudy could still hear the murmurs that the pair were producing, even if there was no way to really catch the words. Of course, those murmurs were low, and came in-between Jon and Kristy making out with each other for way too long a run. Shit, are they trying to drag this out? Trudy found herself personally offended, even if it didn’t look like Kristy was all that into it. She’s being a trooper, but this isn’t her cup of tea in the slightest.
That… reassured the woman of the house. Trudy remembered Jon’s initial evaluation the week before; that his romp with Kristy was like fucking a mannequin. She could see it. Kristy was kissing Jon back, to be sure, and her form was pressed to his like any two lovers would, but every inch of the girl was stiff. Reluctant. Even when Jon began stepping things up, doing things with his fingers and lips that Trudy herself had found toe-curlingly erotic so many times over the years, Kristy only trembled and shivered, like a mildly cool breeze had caught her by surprise.
A lesbian in enemy territory. The thought wouldn’t go away, and a fresh bout of guilt washed over Trudy. Still, the girl was soldiering on. She even ran a hand down Jon’s broad chest before her fingers dipped and slid into the waist of his pants, then began tugging his shirt upward. Once he was bared, Kristy, after very obviously forcing herself to build up the courage, leaned in and started running her tongue along Jon’s pecs, tracing the outline of his muscle with her own. Trudy even laughed inadvertently when the out-of-her-depth young woman popped his nipple into her mouth and started sucking. Go with what you know, I guess.
Jon wasn’t laughing though. If anything, the look of surprised appreciation was deadly serious, and Trudy found herself frowning. I mean… I could have done that if he told me he likes it. Kristy knows I’m good at…
Enough of that.
Trudy snapped back to reality at seeing new movement. Kristy, now on her knees with Jon’s stiff cock bobbing inches from her face, was frozen again. The girl just stared at it like she’d never seen something like that before–which may actually have been the case if the two of them had just gotten right down to business last time–and she was working her mouth, seemingly in an attempt to… say something? That had to have been it, Trudy guessed. Had to. After all, why would she volunteer more of herself than necessary?
A question rendered moot the second that Jon decided to come to her rescue by picking her light frame up off the floor and depositing it onto the bed. While Jon shuffled out of his pooled briefs and jeans, Kristy had decided to get the show on the road, and was peeling her own clothing off with a speed that impressed Trudy. I get it. Quicker he gets off, quicker she gets out.
Kristy just lied there then, waiting, the tips of her purple spikes vibrating from the quivering of the body beneath. Jon slowly crawled across the mattress from the bottom like he was stalking prey, the lines of his muscles flexing and relaxing, just as Kristy’s own impressive definition rippled with little tics of anticipation. The girl’s knees parted and her firm thighs opened to let the beast before her in, and Jon closed with her.
Trudy stopped breathing. She could only stand there then and take in the moment. She watched her husband reach up and run some fingers through the downy softness at his partner’s cleft, testing the waters, as it were. Finding it to his liking, apparently, he completed his journey and waded in, nearly blanketing the younger woman with his big frame… not that the younger woman saw this. Her eyes were squeezed shut so tightly that it scrunched her face up like an old piece of leather.
That was the case right up to the instant that Jon began entering her.
When Trudy saw Kristy’s eyes fly wide open and her mouth form a yawning O, she was admittedly confused. Not their first rodeo. Why does she look so shocked? A mystery, but also the lesser concern right then. After all, the mating was now and truly underway.
Number two. Here we go. Trudy sniffled a bit, but made herself stay put.
It took an excruciatingly long time for Jon to hilt himself fully within the woman that had practically demanded he do so once again. All the while, the demander herself writhed and wriggled under him; back arching and fingers clawing at the big arms locked on either side of her. Again, Trudy marveled at this… this… non-mannequin like reaction. It was as if Kristy had woken up this time, or something. Whatever the case, Jon appeared to be more than appreciative, and was now setting about railing the tasty thing in his bed with a gusto that… well, that Trudy was very familiar with.
Fuck. Fuck. This… I can’t see this! This fucking hurts!
Neither fornicator knew or cared what the other woman thought. Now, Jon had one strong arm under the small of Kristy’s back, lifting her up so that only her shoulders and head were still on the bed. With her spine arched sufficiently, he was able to pop the girl’s bobbing nipple into his mouth as he rutted feverishly, and Kristy’s shriek told Trudy that she was very receptive to the repeat of her own act from minutes earlier.
It was like watching a horror movie when Trudy saw Kristy’s sculpted, smooth legs begin convulsing across the mattress, tearing up the sheets as they jerked under the force of her climax.
“She came to life. She’s a real girl now.” The lame joke was uttered under Trudy’s breath as she sniffled… though not as far under as she’d supposed.
“Who’s a what now?”
Trudy jumped at the sound of the newcomer, and spun to see Ava standing there, looking befuddled under her loose ponytail, having come across into their yard without an invitation. This was just as she’d done a hundred times before, though with every previous instance being welcomed by Trudy.
Not this time.
“Ava! No, no don’t… don’t come any…”
Too late. Their pretty, sprite-like neighbor was already up on her toes and peering through the window, assuming permissions that, any other time, she’d be justified in doing through a strong, extended friendship. A friendship that was now tested in a way that absolutely no one could have predicted.
With slow, somber movements, Ava stepped back, hands over her mouth in shock. Then, with every inch of her petite body oozing sympathy, she turned to Trudy.
“Tell me what I can do for you. Anything to make this better.”
__________
“Why was Trudy the first?”
Above Jon, Kristy had been doing a pretty decent impression of a cowgirl, but her bucking stopped dead when her bronco neighed in a way she didn’t like. “Wha… what?” After opening her eyes, taking her fingers from out of her hair, and straightening her arched back, the young woman leaned forward and braced her hands on Jon’s broad chest, tilting her head quizzically. “First? Believe me, she was far from–”
“You said she was the only married woman you had sex with. So… why her?’
“Jesus, dipshit. Is now really the time?” Kristy rolled her hips in a circle, not hindered by Jon’s loose grip there. “You still haven’t popped, and this is getting boring. Let’s just… just finish, okay? No more jawing.”
Fair enough. Jon honestly didn’t know he was going to ask what he did until the words flew out, but Kristy wasn’t wrong. It was time to be done… and, frankly, she’d gotten hers more than once since they’d started. After all, this was supposed to be for him. On paper. To that end, he put it in high gear, sat up, began thrusting and gyrating in the way he knew Trudy, at least, always responded to, took one of the kid’s nipples into his mouth… and boom. The fingers in his hair threatened to give him bald spots in no time flat, and to the background music of Kristy’s gasps and moans–again–Jon emptied himself, signaling an unambiguous completion to the latest clause in their contract.
“Ha, haa, haaaaa…” Puddled next to him on the mattress now, Kristy shuddered through her aftershocks while taming her breathing. “I… yeah. Okay then.” She filled her lungs and then let it out in a slow, measured release. “Woo. That’s… that’s that. Guess… guess I’ll be going.” Still staring at the ceiling, the girl seemed to be trying to convince herself more than make an announcement.
“All right.” Jon, also only looking upward, heard his lover start to rustle. “But not until you answer my question. Which you can now that I… popped.”
Though he didn’t see it, he felt her fall back onto the mattress. It was long seconds before she finally made another noise. “Why Trudy? Fuck, you know you don’t have the right to ask me that? It’s not… our deal is that I use my pussy to patch up your ego.” When Jon didn’t respond, she barked out a bitter laugh. “Fuck it. Why? Because she reminded me, a shit ton, of someone I used to know.” Another pause, and when she spoke again, some of the combativeness had leeched away from her tone. “My old high school teacher. She’s Trudy’s age… blonde… same great tits… knew what she was doing…”
High School? Crap, that doesn’t sound good. Jon began rolling over, concern writ large on his face, he knew it, but Kristy saw it too and headed him off at the pass.
“Okay, ease up Sir Jonathan the Rescuer of Distressed Lesbian Damsels.” She pressed a hand on his chest and gently pushed. “It isn’t one of those stories. I wasn’t molested or any shit like that. The first girl I… uh… got to know was my age. My friend, and we… experimented. Had a little fun. Eventually Miss Kowalski caught on, and she… she just pushed me further into what I was supposed to be. And I was eighteen, and like a week from graduation. No need to call the cops.”
“So… like yesterday, pretty much.” Jon grunted. Why do I keep thinking of her as some kind of life-long…
“Yesterday? It was more than two years ago, you old fuck!” Kristy laughed with genuine amusement. “I’ve lived about ten lifetimes since then! Geez, I guess it’s true when they say that time speeds up when you have one foot in the grave.”
For some reason, that actually made Jon laugh. “You are so full of wisdom, I’m surprised you don’t have a cult following you.”
“Right? Church of the Candy Cunt.” Kristy chuckled.
“Temple of the Tight Twat.” Jon joined right in.
“Her Holey Holiness.” The girl had propped herself up on an elbow to look at him now, and a toothy grin threatened to split her face in two. “C’mon… your turn.”
“Um… Oh!” Jon sat up, proud of himself. “Minister Minge Muncher!”
“Minge?” Kristy groaned. “Way too British.” Her grin lingered, despite the admonishment. “Not the worst, though. If I liked tea and bad teeth, you’d be in like Flynn… Sir Jonathan.”
“In again, you mean.”
“…yeah. Right.” Their brief bout of inappropriateness was done as done could be then. “Well this has been just about the best pillow talk a girl could ask for, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
In the midst of her making herself presentable–as presentable as her barely-there ensemble could be, at least–Kristy hesitated and looked behind her. For some reason, the sight of the swell of the girl’s side-boob as she turned slightly his way got Jon’s blood flowing again. What the hell? This is chump change compared to…
“Thanks.”
Jon blinked. “For what?”
“For… humoring us.” Her back muscles tensed. “I know this is just about the dumbest thing any three people could do… but…” She started back to life and pulled down her top. “You could have been worse.” She froze again at hearing her own words. “About it! You could have been worse about it.”
“I get you.” Jon chuckled. “Thanks for the thanks, I guess.”
“You remind me of someone. A doctor that used to come to the bistro a lot.” Kristy still hadn’t turned back to him as she talked, and was, in fact, nearly out the door. “He was a great guy. I really liked him, but his wife…” She shook her head. “It was rough, what happened between them. I just… I don’t want to see it again. I’m sorry I was a part of it maybe happening to you. So… yeah. There it is. Uh… See ya.”
And with that, Number Two was done.
__________
Trudy looked up when Jon walked into the living room, starting like he’d shattered a window on his return. He looked normal; jeans and a t-shirt, placid expression, same boyishly-charming, half-messy collection of dark locks.
What the hell do I look like?
Apparently… also normal, judging by his unguarded, quasi-apologetic smile to her. “Was it too bad?”
“What? Was what too bad?” Trudy couldn’t stop playing with the hem of the skirt she had bunched in her hands. “Why… why bad?”
“Huh? I mean… you know. Me and Kristy… again.”
“Sure. Sure yeah. It… yeah.” Christ girl, get ahold of yourself! “It was what it was. I’m not about to whine like a kid about something I did… uh, before. You know what I mean. Something I caused.” Good lord…
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have.” Jon, mostly stuck in his own head, sat next to his wife on the sofa. “I told myself after the first debacle that it was a bad idea. That… that I could just forgive you and move on, but…”
“But I told you to do it.” Trudy finished for him.
He looked at her and smiled. “Not gonna lie, that was a bit confusing. I could have talked her out of here. She’s… she’s not a bad kid, honestly. I think she’d have listened to reason. Well, after giving me about an hour more of shit, of course.” His smile grew at that.
Fuck me. Trudy’s plastered smile back hid the clenched teeth behind her lips. “Jon… tell me a joke.”
“Joke?” Her husband’s face twisted with wariness. “Trude, you know me and jokes. Any humor comes from laughing at me.”
“C’mon. Just one.” She snuggled close to him and batted her eyelashes at him. “Pretty please? I need a refill.”
“Who’s the most popular guy in the nudist colony? The one who carries in two coffees and a dozen donuts.”
Trudy snorted and pressed her face into his shoulder. “Oh yeah, that’s the good stuff, donut man!” She left it there for a good long while, especially feeling the need to linger once Jon wrapped an arm around her and squeezed. God-fucking-damn do I love this man.
“You know, I mean it when I say you’re my best friend.” She spoke into his chest, wanting him to feel her words with his body. “I can’t imagine my life without you.” She forced herself to pull away enough then to look up at him. “You and me, forever.”
Jon ran his fingers down her cheek, and the tenderness in the act threatened to wring an ocean of tears from her. “You and me. Forever.”
__________
Jon felt like a heel, but not enough to stop him from walking into Ava’s living room through her cracked-open front door. He inched his way in, very cognizant that he was not only uninvited, but uninvited to a very dimly-lit home. Is Ava trying to save on electricity, or something?
Shit. Maybe she was. Maybe something had happened with her finances since her husband, Cecil, had flown the coop. It dawned on him right then and there that he’d barely spoken to his friend and neighbor since the day Kristy had dropped herself on them like a bomb for round two… more than a month before.
Damn. I’m a bad friend and coward. He could recognize that he’d been avoiding Ava without realizing it, now that he examined it. Hoping that she’d bought his feeble attempts to explain away the presence of the young sexpot with the “fuck me” shorts and top. She’s more than smart enough to see through that stupid “cookies” bit I barked out. Jon squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Good thing Trudy’s been better than me about this. Hopefully she came up with something to explain it all.
Which was what’d brought him here in the first place; the hunt for his wife. The wife who’d actually remained a good friend to their neighbor who was lovely both inside and out. Creeping like a creeper towards the back of the home, Jon decided that it was time to be less creepy. “Hey, Ava, don’t want to have you jumping out with a knife, or anything, but I was thinking Trudy might be here. She isn’t answering…”
Holy Shit. Good friend is fucking right.
While distantly vowing to never, ever, go through an unlocked door again, Jon froze in his tracks and let the worst feeling of Déjà Vu in history wash over him as he stared with round-eyed dismay at the production being put on in Ava’s sunroom.
“Ungh, oh… oh god…” Little Ava, her wispy little yellow dress unbuttoned to her little navel to let her perky, cute little tits free to bounce just a little, let out a very un-little moan that more than explained why she was oblivious to Jon’s presence. “Gaaaaah! Oh… ah, ah… aaaahhh!”
And why his wife was as well.
“Harder… harder… oh my god, oh my god, you feel soooooo goooood…” Trudy, her jeans on the floor next to the expansive sofa that both women were on, ground her bared crotch into Ava’s with a ferocity, a need, that caused Jon to actually take a step back. “You… I’m… oh, oh babe, it’s coming again… it’s cominggggg!!”
“Do it, do it.” Ava, who was gripping Trudy’s hand like a white-knuckled vice, began throwing herself at her neighbor and friend of years, grinding harder and working the taut thighs under her bunched-up skirts against Trudy’s sweat-sheened legs. “Come for me, gorgeous. Flood my pussy, baby. Gimme number five!”
Five ever… five this week… five in the last hour… Jon didn’t know and didn’t want to know. It didn’t matter. All that actually mattered was that Trudy followed Ava’s instructions and came like a bunker-buster; her whole body shattering under the burst of her climax and triggering her lover’s in return. Instead of letting go of each other’s hand to ride out the orgasms freely, they went for a different move; pulling into each other simultaneously, with neither needing to take the lead, plastering their mouths together to full-on breathe the air in the other’s lungs. It was perhaps the most intimate thing Jon had ever seen.
And more than enough for him to, finally, face the reality he’d been trying to deny for too long.
As he turned to go–to really go–Jon laughed bitterly to himself. Trudy said it was a new thing, but I guess she never said it was a finished thing.