Allure of the Vixen (10 page)

Joanne smiled. “Exactly. That’s you. That’s not
Peter.”

This was a lot to take in, and we hadn’t even reached
the part about her lying to me about being married. I got up and went to get a
drink of water. While I was in the kitchen I put on some coffee. I surprised
myself by automatically filling the coffeepot for two people.

Joanne had me, as always.

I came back and handed Joanne a glass of water, as
if we were just having a normal visit between friends. “Coffee is on the way.”
I sat back down, still not on the sofa. “So he’s known who I am, all along?”

“Not your name. Just that I had a lover who fucked
me. I don’t tell him names. I use other terms. The rough one. The tattooed
one.” Joanne took a sip of water. “The black one.”

If
Joanne thought that me imagining her with a black man would shock me, she
didn’t know me as well as she thought. Matter of factly, I asked, “What was
your name for me?”

“The virile one.”

I almost choked on my water. This fucking woman was
going to drive me nuts.

“You like that? It drove Peter wild. I’d tell him
about how much come you left in me. How strong I thought it was, how I imagined
your seed shooting  into my womb.”

Although I was having a hard time thinking that
would excite some husband, her talk was certainly exciting me. It must have
been some cave man thing, knowing Joanne thought of me that way, for my
powerful seed.
Virile.

I shifted in my seat to cover my growing erection. I
wasn’t going to let her off the hook by turning the subject to sex.

Joanne caught it. “See? You have to admit, it’s a
turn on.”

“Because I’m the other man, not the cuckold.”

“It’s a turn on for him too. He’d tell you. He tried
to tell you, at the party.”

“How do you know?”

“He said so. I told you, Peter and I talk about
everything.”

“Does he know you are here?”

“Of course. At least that I’d try to see you. We
talked about whether you’d let me in. I bet him you would. He didn’t take the
bet. And I’ll share everything with him tonight.”

“I still can’t believe he’s not a little jealous.”

“Of course he is. But it’s mixed in with everything
else. It’s like having sex in public. You’re worried about getting caught,
maybe getting arrested. It’s mixed in with the thrill—it’s
part
of the
thrill. Peter’s jealousy is part of what drives his excitement, and part of my
excitement. I get turned on knowing he’s turned on. All of that contributes to
his arousal. And mine.”

I know she wanted me to ask her about having sex in
public, another one of her thrown out titillations, but I pivoted. “You get
turned on telling him about sex with your lovers? With me?”

“Of course I do. Have you ever watched a woman
masturbate? Tell you about her fantasies, fantasies that don’t include you? I
bet you have, you’re the type of man who women would admit things to if you
told them you wanted to hear them. You have that level of control. It’s not
dominance, that’s not you. But many women would do what you want. Even me, to
some extent.”

I was starting to get an idea of how she placed me
in her array of lovers. Strong, virile, but not forcefully dominant. I couldn’t
complain, it was how I thought of myself. “So if you get aroused by your
husband, why do you need lovers?”

“I already told you. I love him, but he doesn’t give
me everything I need. And part of what arouses me is sharing with him what I do
with my other lovers.” Joanne got up and went to the kitchen.

I knew she was giving me time to absorb it all. I
had to admit, I was enticed. Not enough to forgive her, but enough to
understand a little about where she was coming from. And Peter. I could never
be like Peter. But I had no right to judge him. It was some kind of kink, no
different than any other, in the great scheme of things probably a lot less
outlandish than many others. He seemed like an intelligent, mature guy. If he
had entered into this arrangement with his wife, who was I to judge him?

And deep down, even though I had been so completely
under Joanne’s spell, I’d never felt so powerful, fucking this beautiful
married woman, some other man helpless to stop me from taking what I wanted.

Her virile man. So virile, even her husband was happy
to see his wife taken by me, to have me shoot my powerful seed in her. . .

Which stopped me cold.

Joanne came back and handed me a coffee. It was
black, like I took it. I didn’t ask how she knew.

Instead of going back to the couch she perched on
the edge of my chair. Her light perfume wafted over me, my skin prickling just
at her proximity.

“Are you on birth control?” I asked.

“If you didn’t have hot coffee in your hand, I’d
slap you. You think I’d use you to get pregnant?”

I thought of some of my friends and the experiences
they had. “It wouldn’t be the first time a woman did that.”

“Until you mentioned it just now, I hadn’t thought
about it. We aren’t ready for children. If and when we decide to have kids, Peter
will be my first choice for a father.”

“First choice?”

“Of course. He’s my husband. But you’ve given me an
idea. When the time comes, I may tease him a little, tell him he has to compete.
That I’ll let my lover come in me, and then Peter can. See which one wins. I
think it will turn Peter on. Of course, I’ll talk about it with him first.”

“You’d tease him, or do it for real?”

“What do you think?”

I gave her a hard look. “I won’t be part of that. Or
anything with you, now.”

Joanne calmly took a sip of coffee. “We’ll see about
that. I’m going to let you absorb all this. As for getting me pregnant, who’s
to say you would still be my lover then?” She set her coffee down and dropped
her hand onto my thigh. “Besides, I could have already been doing that, you wouldn’t
have known. I could have been off birth control, only letting you fuck me on my
most fertile days.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing?” I cringed. All my
years of trying not to get women pregnant, and here was one that could have
been using me for just that.

“I told you no. But I’ll tell you one thing I’ve
done. Some days, when I’m having sex with Peter, and I’m sitting on his face. .
.” Joanne paused, to let that sink in. “Do you know what I say to him?”

She paused again, not quite dramatically, but trying
to get me to beg her for more information. I didn’t, but I could tell by her
smile she knew I wanted to know. “I ask him whether he’d be as excited licking
me if he knew I had just been with another man, with someone who has just come
in me.”

“Another tease?”

“At first. Until I saw his reaction, he couldn’t get
enough of me. So I did it for real. I tell him that he’d better lick it out of
me, or else. . .I’ll get pregnant with another man’s child.”

“You’ve done this recently?”

“Very.”

I gulped, the thought so decadent, and yet, at the
same time, feeding my ego like nothing ever had before. Just like Joanne
planned it. And as usual, everything with her had a catch. Her husband got to
lick her, and I didn’t. But the
way
he had to do it. . .“I thought you
said you didn’t humiliate him.”

“I don’t. Not on purpose. I found out—and I bet he
found out—that he liked it by accident. One night I had sex with someone,
before you, and I was with Peter an hour later and when I was telling him about
it he said he wanted to see what I looked like, whether I was still swollen,
whether there was still some evidence of my lover. I let him touch me, and he
kissed my pussy, and that’s what started it.”

“And that excites him?”

“I told you, it’s complicated. Pride and jealousy
and kink all wrapped together. He goes crazy. Although not as crazy as when
I’ve had a black lover who is fucking me. Then Peter has to imagine me having a
black baby, and how everyone would know it wasn’t his.”

I squirmed in the seat. “You bitch. That
is
mean.”

Joanne laughed. “To you it would be. It would be so
mean I wouldn’t even consider doing something like that with you. With Peter,
it’s different.”

“So that’s the kind of sex you have with him? You
let him lick you?”

“Oh, are we suddenly jealous? Jealous of the man you
were just telling me wasn’t much of a man? Because I let him lick me?”

I shrugged, pretending indifference. “He’s your
husband. You two can do whatever you want.”

Joanne leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. I
didn’t stop her, but that’s all she’d get.

“I do have sex with him, but not the way you think
of it. I only let him fuck me on our anniversary, because we did it on our
wedding. But always with a condom, he’s never come in me.”

“Never?”

“Never. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have a lot of
sex. I’ve let him come on my tits, I’ve given him handjobs. But when I’m
telling him what I’ve done with my lovers, he usually starts to masturbate,
just from what I’m saying, and he can’t control himself, he comes so fast.
Often when he’s at home, knowing I’m out with a lover, he’s masturbating. He
tries to wait, but he’s told me that just imagining what I’m doing drives him
so crazy he can’t help himself.”

“I can’t get over that you let me come in you and he
hasn’t.”

“Well, I may change that, after the great idea
you’ve given me.”

“I’m not part of this,” I warned.

Joanne dragged her hand across my thigh again, her
fingers outlining my erection. “You already are part of it.”

“Only because you lied to me. I never would have
done anything with you.”

“Are you so sure of that?”

“Yes.” But I wasn’t, really. This woman was the
devil. An incredibly powerful, sexy, alluring, irresistible devil.

Joanne stopped touching me, and though I wanted to
be done with her, the absence of her fingers was like the air suddenly being
sucked from the room.

“I believe you. But I didn’t lie to you.”

“You never told me you were married.”

“You never asked.”

“That’s a cop out.”

Joanne held up her hand. “I wear a wedding ring.”

And so she did, a band. Along with rings on two
other fingers. “That’s your right hand,” I argued.

“I’m southern European, and so is Peter. We all wear
our rings on our right hand.”

“I was supposed to know that?” But of course I did
know that, I’d been all over southern Europe. The women there often did wear
their wedding rings on their right hand.

Joanne slipped her hand under my neck and onto my
chest. The hand with the ring. “Admit it. You enjoyed it. All of it.”

I looked away from her face, I’d not be able to
concentrate. I didn’t know what to think, and for one of the few times in my
life, didn’t quite know what to say. It wasn’t like me at all, that was the
power Joanne had over me.

The fact that her fingers were on my chest wasn’t
helping matters.

I put my hand over hers, stopping her, but the electricity
remained. I fought to remain in control. As if I had any chance of being in
total control here.

I didn’t have a good answer to question. I did enjoy
it, the sex. Maybe a little of the secrecy of it, having an office affair. And
I certainly enjoyed her. But knowing everything—or at least everything she had
chosen to tell me, I was conflicted. The ego boost of being the virile man. But
I wasn’t sure how I felt about being the man cuckolding another man’s wife.

“I can’t get over that your husband accepts this.”

It is who he is. It’s what turns him on. I know you
have things that turn you on. Everyone does. Don’t judge him. He’s happy with
it, more than happy, he’s living his fantasy. So am I. Most people can’t say
that. I have the man I love all to me, and I still get to indulge in my special
desires with the men I want.”

“Men.”

“Yes, men. You don’t do well as the jilted lover or
the jealous type. Tell me, does it make you feel better or worse? That you
aren’t the only one?”

Now my ego clashed with my guilt. “Better, I think.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard. It’s the first step in
acceptance.”

I stood up abruptly. “I’m not sure I’m anywhere near
acceptance.”

She moved close to me, very much in my space. Our
space; I’m not sure I’d ever have my own space with her, even now. “Maybe one
of the reasons I didn’t come right out and make it clear I was married was that
I was afraid you’d react like this.”

“Damn right.”

Joanne reached up and put her arms around me and
placed her head on my chest. “I just wanted you so much. I didn’t want to take
the chance of not getting you. I was wrong, I see that now. The truth would be
important to you, I should have known that from the beginning. Can you forgive
me?”

I didn’t embrace her, I just stood, aloof. But I
didn’t push her away.

“I thought I was going to be the one asking your
forgiveness.”

She let me go and stepped away, the flash back in
her eye. “I haven’t forgotten that. You can be a hard man.”

“It’s who I am. You asked me not to judge your
husband. Don’t judge me.”

“It’s not a judgment. I didn’t say it was bad. Just
that you can be hard.”

I shrugged. “Are we done here?”

Joanne’s mouth quivered, her eyes narrowing. “You’ve
made your point. And I apologized. I was selfish. What more do you want?”

She had a way with me, that was sure. She said she
was sorry, but at the same time, she was apologizing for being selfish in
wanting me. Making me feel desired, making it the excuse for her
untruthfulness. Making it hard to not forgive. How could you not forgive
someone who’s sin was in wanting you so much?

I couldn’t decide if she was the most
straightforward woman I had ever met or the most devious.

She was certainly the most desirable.

“I need some time to think about it,” I said.