Authors: Ben Boswell
I groaned softly. There was something undeniably erotic about the scene she painted. I could imagine her perched on his desk, him standing between her widely spread legs, sliding his cock deep inside her as they kissed passionately. She was probably still dressed. Her skirt hiked up, panties pulled to the side, her blouse hanging open, bra pushed up to expose her big boobs. And then immediately after, after the sex, after the initial awkwardness, had she dropped to her knees? Sucked him hard so he could bang her again?
“I can see in your eyes that the idea of me seducing my much older boss is a turn on. Why?”
“I dunno. Part of it, I guess, is that until recently I never imagined you’d do something like that. And part of it is that some of your stories are just so wanton, at least how I imagine them. And part of it is it sometimes sounds like you’re just overwhelmed with passion, can barely control yourself.”
She nodded. “It’s not something I’m proud of. But you’re right. There have been times, with Alex, with Gary, with Chucky where the connection seemed so intense that I was reckless in pursuing it. Dangerous, stupid.”
“Maybe part of what turned you on was the recklessness.”
“Maybe. God, Gary and I were so stupid. We couldn’t be seen out in public together, so we just hooked up at the office. A couple, three times a day we’d lock ourselves into his office. We were ‘working late’ almost every night. Laughing at private jokes. So fucking obvious. The office gossips were on it immediately. Then his wife found out.”
“Oh, jeez, one of the secretaries ratted us out. His wife already suspected, of course, but she’d been in denial. Anyway, she threw him out of the house, which tore him up because they had kids. The secretaries were calling me a whore, a home-wrecker, not even quite behind my back. The office manager called me in and cancelled my internship. Then Gary lost his job, too, although they gave him three months to find another position. Just a complete clusterfuck.”
“Did you continue to see him?”
“Just at the beginning, when things were just starting to unravel. There was still something intoxicating about it, you know, sort of
us against the world
. But that didn’t last long. The distance between rebel and loser is smaller than I would have guessed. It stopped being fun then.”
“Anyway,” she continued. “That’s it for me. After Gary, it was Chucky, Jason, and you. I’ve been with eight men altogether. Finish up.”
“My last isn’t exciting. Janice was a set-up. Mutual friends did some matchmaking. We went out a few times, ended up sleeping together for a couple of months. I was looking for ways to end it when she did me the favor of pulling the plug on it. Weird thing is, even though I’d been thinking of ending it myself, I took it hard when she dumped me. Silly, right?”
Terri didn’t say anything for a while, and neither did I. Finally she took my hand.
“So Bill, did you get out of this talk what you wanted?”
“I didn’t want anything in particular.”
She regarded me skeptically.
“Well, at least I don’t know what I wanted. But nothing you’ve told me makes me feel differently about you.”
“Okay,” she replied. “I don’t pretend to understand what’s going on between us right now.”
I smiled. “I’m not sure I do either.”
It was late. We turned out the lights and snuggled. She dozed off quickly, and I turned over and tried to make sense of my emotions. Even though I couldn’t point to a specific insight, it somehow felt like the pieces were coming together. There was a pattern with Terri. A subcurrent of animalistic passion that she tried hard to suppress because when she gave in, she could lose control, be self-destructive. And yet, it was a part of her, an exciting part of her, and it made me sad to realize that she felt, or had felt, the need to keep it hidden for so long.
“So do you ever hear from Chucky?” I tried to sound casual and failed miserably.
It was a couple of days after we had
. We’d just made love, and were lying in bed, her head resting on my chest. She didn’t answer.
“Terri? Are you asleep?”
She lifted herself off me and perched on an elbow, her breasts dangling sexily beneath her, looking at me now. I tried to read her expression. Was she angry?
“I’m sorry, I...”
She cut me off. “Why do you ask?”
“I dunno. It just... It just popped into my head.”
That same knowing smirk. “Oh really? Just now? You haven’t thought of asking me if I’m in touch Chucky even once these past two weeks?”
“No, I mean, maybe once in a while, it’s no big deal, I just wondered...”
She let me babble incoherently in that vein for a few more moments. Then she put a finger to my lips.
“Shhh, honey. Slow down.”
When she was sure I was done, she took a deep breath.
“Are you angry that I told you those stories? Be honest.”
I had to think for a minute. “Maybe. Maybe a little.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. It’s just that when Janet threw it out at the party, I got a little angry too. I was drunk. I was feeling defensive. I felt like you were going to judge me. And I was, I guess, trying to shock you.”
I shook my head. “Terri, honey, I would never. The past is past. I mean, I can’t control my initial emotional reactions, but you have to know I would never hold something like that against you.”
“I know. Which is why I regret throwing it all out there... but that’s not what we’re talking about, it is?”
“I... I don’t know what you mean.”
“Okay, okay,” I relented.
“I can’t stop thinking about it. About you and him... them.”
“So what if I have been in touch with Chucky? Would it make you angry? Aroused? And what if I haven’t? Would you be relieved? Disappointed?”
“All of those,” I replied. “And maybe more. I don’t know why it has affected me so much, but it has.”
“Well, it has certainly spiced up our sex life,” she said with a grin.
“Did it need spicing?”
“I don’t know. You tell me. I think you have to admit that whatever has changed between us is mostly you, right?”
“I think so. Seeing you so charged up definitely works for me too. You haven’t looked at me that way in years.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize...”
She shook her head. “No, no, I don’t mean it that way. I mean, its just we’ve been together for a long time now. We have kids. You don’t have that same hunger for me, or least didn’t until recently. I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to. And it’s not just you. I mean, I haven’t seen myself that way either. I’ve been in mommy mode for a while. Wearing flannel PJs to bed, rather than this,” she said waving her hand over her nude body.
“So this is a good thing?” I asked a little uncertain.
“I don’t know. Why were you asking about being in touch with Chucky?”
“It... I don’t know.”
She regarded me skeptically.
“I really don’t.”
“This isn’t the first time you’ve thought about asking, though, is it?”
I didn’t answer. She could see my response in my eyes.
“So, how did you imagine the conversation going?” she prompted.
“I guess...I guess, when I’ve thought about it, I imagined you, like first blushing, like you’d been caught in something. And then slowly I pull it out of you. How you and Chucky, I dunno, maybe exchange Facebook messages sometimes, or maybe some flirty texts.”
“And that’s all? Just the occasional electronic communication?”
She stared at me doubtfully.
“Okay,” she continued slowly, “and how do you react? Do you get angry? Do you punish me? Does this turn into a spanking thing?” She grinned at me.
“No, nothing like that. It never...I’ve never played it out that far. You just admit it...and then I get jealous...”
“So if I admitted to you that I did sometimes still talk to Chucky, it would turn you on?”
“Do you?” I replied, jumping out of my metaphorical socks.
“Maybe,” she replied. “Facebook does make it so easy to keep in touch with people, doesn’t it?”
“Terri, are you just saying this to...?”
“Chucky was very disappointed when I stopped seeing him. He always reminds me that I can always come by for a visit.”
talk to him?”
She smiled slightly. “I mean, it’s all in good fun. Aren’t there any old girlfriends in your friends list? You don’t keep up with Melanie at all?”
“No,” I replied hoarsely.
She clucked sadly. “Oh, that’s too bad. It really is an ego boost. He loved those pictures you posted of us in Florida last year. We thought the kids looked so cute with that sand castle, but Chucky only seemed to notice that bikini I was wearing. You know, the white one?”
I swallowed hard. She’d looked so hot. It really was too skimpy. She’d worn a wrap most of the time, but I’d gotten this one unguarded picture of her laughing at the kids trying to defend their castle from the tide. I’d posted it on Facebook, with a caption about the kids, but I was showing her off as well.
“He said he’d like me to model it for him. And take it off for him.”
She reached down and stroked my hard cock. She raised an eyebrow, and threw her leg over me. Without another word, she guided my prick to her pussy and firmly impaled herself on me.
“Uh huh,” she replied with a wicked grin.
She rode me enthusiastically. I crunched upward and kissed her breasts, and she adjusted herself so that as she rose and fell, her hard nipple trailed over my lips. I flicked my tongue against her nipple as she moaned softly.
I put my hands on her hips and urged her on, faster, harder. She threw her head back and climaxed with a lusty growl, and I immediately exploded into her still-pulsing pussy.
Sixty seconds, at most, from start to finish, but we were both slick with sweat and gasping.
As I caught my breath, my head cleared.
“So, you don’t really keep in touch with Chucky, do you?”
She looked up at me. “No....” She paused, smiled, her body hot against mine, hard and soft in all the right places. “No...but I could.”
“Chucky Doyle. Commercial architect. I’m pretty sure a Google search would give me all I need,” Terri said.
We’d showered, gotten into PJs, and were now back in bed together when I’d asked her how she’d get in touch with him.
“Would you? I mean, have you thought of it?”
She shook her head. “No, I couldn’t do that.”
“Why not? I mean, I don’t want you to. Not really. But what would be the big deal?”
“I told you, Chucky and I were never really, you know, friends. We didn’t really keep in touch when we were seeing each other. If I pinged him now, he’d think I just wanted to hook up again.”
“So? I mean, I don’t want you to hook up with him, but what’s wrong with a little flirting?”
“Bill, this is fun and all, but I’m not going to lead another guy on. That’s just not fair bringing another person into this if it is just a game between us.”
“What if it wasn’t a game? I mean, I don’t want you to, but what would you want?”
I mean, I mean, I mean, I mean
... listen to yourself, Bill. I don’t think I ever heard so much minimizing and distancing from you in ten years.”
She shook her head. “You want me to commit to hypotheticals, but you can’t even come out and say what you’re feeling.”
“I know. It’s...it’s hard.”
She shook her head. “Men are strange creatures. I know everyone says women are complicated, but you boys are so used to suppressing your emotions that you don’t know how to deal with anything out of the ordinary.”
I laughed. “Right, because women always respond calmly and analytically to emotional turmoil.”
“Well, I think I’m the calm one here.”
“Oh please, Terri. Stop putting this all on me. Yeah, I have something going on I can’t quite figure, but it’s not all me. You’re enjoying this too much, and it’s not just that you like seeing me turned on.”
“Yeah, you know you’re getting a kick out of, I dunno, waving it in front of me.”
“You’re the one who keeps bringing it up.”
“And you’re the one who keep answering in rich and explicit details.”
She opened her mouth as if to reply. But then she hesitated. She looked at me pensively. “You’re right.”
She laughed and I joined her. “We’re quite the kinky matched set, aren’t we? I seem to like showing off, and you seem to like hearing about it.”
“Emotional exhibitionist and voyeur,” I suggested.
“Or sadist and masochist,” she retorted.
She put her hand up. “No, let’s stop there. It’s late.” She pointed at the clock showing 2:39am. “The kids will be up soon, and anyway, we should probably sleep on it before we say anything more.”
I nodded. She was right. We were dancing too close to emotional fires for comfort. I cuddled her close, and we both pretended to sleep, though it was pretty obvious we were both awake for a long time, trying to process the past few weeks, and working out the implications for the future.
Was I a voyeur? Worse, a masochist? That didn’t feel right. I didn’t like the pain, and I’d never spied on Terri, or anyone else. Sure, I liked looking at pretty girls. And like everyone else, I enjoy porn on occasion. But that’s far cry from being a voyeur.
But there was a weird grain of truth to it. The white bikini, what was that all about? Why had I uploaded that picture, and why had I encouraged her to wear it even though I knew it was too much—or too little, whatever. And there was that night at O’Toole’s.
Watching the Bears game. Terri in her Brian Urlacher jersey and painted on jeans. I’d gone to bathroom and inside were three young guys talking about the blond #54, describing what they wanted to do her in lurid detail. I remember thinking I probably should say something, defend her honor. Instead, I just tried to focus on pissing despite a growing erection. Sure it was a turn on. I mean, they were saying how hot my woman was. Just pride, right? Or had it turned me on to think about them taking her, using her like a dirty, submissive whore?