Taken by a New Lover

by Thomas Henry

  Taken by a New Lover

  (Temporarily Mine Series – Book 5)

  By

  Thomas Henry

  Text Copyright © 2014 Thomas Henry

  Cover Images Copyright © Canstockphoto

  All Rights Reserved

  http://www.thomashenryauthor.com

  http://www.amazon.com/author/thomashenry

  mailto:thomas@thomashenryauthor.com

  This is a work of fiction. Characters and events are imaginary or are portrayed fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, organizations, events or places is coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are at least 18 years old.

  This story is erotica for sale to adults only. It contains sexually explicit scenes and graphic language that may be offensive to some readers.

  Taken by a New Lover

  (Temporarily Mine Series – Book 5)

  It was Friday night, and I was in a nightclub called Rumours, having a drink at the bar, waiting for Karen and her girlfriend to show up. Karen had suggested that we play a naughty little game that she thought would be a turn-on for both of us. Her idea was hardly original. In fact, it was something of a cliché. But it was something we never had done, and we both were pretty excited about giving it a try.

  Karen’s idea was that she would flirt and dance with other guys while I sat back and watched anonymously. She’d kiss them and rub up against them and let them feel her up. And then, after she had sufficiently stoked my jealousy and made me horny as hell, she would leave the other guys with blue balls and go home with me for a night of fevered lovemaking.

  Tonight actually was our second stab at it. The first time we tried, Karen and I came into the nightclub and sat together. The other guys ogled her, but none of them asked her to dance. We decided they must have thought she was off-limits because she was with me.

  So this time, we decided to come in separately and to pretend not to know each other. The only thing was, Karen didn’t want to appear to be hanging out in the nightclub alone. She thought it would make her look cheap or desperate. Maybe she’d be mistaken for a hooker. So, she decided she should bring along a girlfriend who would know nothing about who I was or the game we were playing. Karen and her girlfriend would dance with other guys while I watched from afar, and then, after Karen had gotten me…and herself…all worked up, she’d drop her girlfriend off at home and come out to my man-cave in Halawa.

  At forty-five, I normally would feel a bit old to be hanging around in a nightclub like this. But Friday is Big Chill night at Rumours. They play the music of the 60s and 70s up until 9pm. So on this particular night, I was surrounded by boomers and didn’t feel so out-of-place.

  I was tapping my foot to Credence and sipping my Tanqueray-and-tonic. I had one eye on the door because I was expecting Karen and her girlfriend at any moment. But what I wasn’t expecting was to see Bill. The handsome black man caught me totally by surprise when he stepped into the club.

  Bill paused just inside the door and scanned the crowd. He spotted me and waved. He worked his way over to me and clapped me on the shoulder. He ordered a martini from the bartender and sat down next to me.

  “Long time no see,” he said. “You here all by yourself?”

  I nodded.

  “Mai must be out of town,” he said.

  “Yep. Didn’t you know?”

  “Nah, man. I haven’t talked to her in a while.”

  I was a little surprised to hear that. I knew that, for a while at least, Mai had continued to see Bill after that night he and I had shared her. But I guess she must have backed off. Maybe it was because he wanted more than a friends-with-benefits relationship with her, and she felt pressured by that.

  Bill and I had an interesting history. I first met him when Mai was ticked off at me and tried to make me jealous by having sex with him. She figured that bedding a black man was about the most provocative thing she could do. But I didn’t react with the jealousy she wanted, so she raised the stakes by arranging for us to have a threesome with him. She figured that it would upset me if I actually saw her with him. But even that didn’t have the effect she wanted because I liked the guy and really got off by watching him work his magic on her.

  Like me, Bill is the kind of man who really enjoys pleasuring a woman. By the time he was finished with Mai that night, she seemed hooked on the black stud. And at least for a while after that, she frequently went out with him, even though she sort of lives with me when she’s in Hawaii.

  “So you’re out on the prowl, huh?” I asked.

  Bill nodded. “Yeah, it’s been quite a while, you know. I thought I’d at least do some dancing. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get lucky and pick up one of these stuck-in-the-sixties hippy chicks. What about you? Looking for some strange pussy while Mai’s out of town?”

  I gave fleeting thought to telling him about Karen and the game we were playing, but I decided not to try to explain it. “Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “I’m really not much of a dancer. I just thought I’d have a drink, enjoy the music, and watch all the horny guys try to score.”

  “Yeah, well I hope this horny guy sco… Oh, man, look at that!”

  I followed Bill’s gaze. He had spotted Karen and her girlfriend coming in the door. They were working their way over to an empty table. Karen was gorgeous, as always. And so was her girlfriend.

  Karen wore a skin-tight fluorescent green dress that showed plenty of cleavage and thigh. Her ample breasts seemed well-supported, and I couldn’t make out her nipples, so I assumed she was wearing a bra, but the seamless way the fabric stretched over her rump made me wonder if she was wearing any panties.

  The girlfriend was somewhat older than Karen, perhaps mid-thirties. She wore a tailored dark green pants outfit that gave her an air of elegance. She was tall and svelte, with thick, copper-colored hair swept back in a French twist. She had a dark, freckled tan that contrasted wonderfully with her dazzling white smile. She reminded me of Debra Messing at her best…but with a little less nose, a little more ass, and a whole lot more up front.

  “Which one?” I asked.

  “Oh, man. They’re both nice. But the brunette makes my balls ache.”

  And that made my brain ache. I knew from firsthand observation what a stud Bill was. The thought of him going after my Karen was both exciting and scary. I again considered telling him about Karen and me and our little game. I’m not really sure why, but I decided not to say anything and just see what happened. I guess exciting won out over scary.

  “I see they’re both wearing wedding rings,” Bill said. “Probably military wives out on the prowl, looking for some strange cock while their hubbies are away.”

  “Maybe they just want to do a little dancing.”

  “Maybe. But maybe they’re looking to get something they don’t get at home.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like me. Mystique of the black man’s sexual prowess, you know,” Bill said, cupping his crotch. “Down deep, a lot of those white girls are itching to find out for themselves.”

  “Hmmm. Think it really makes a difference what color the man is? I mean, as John Heywood said, ‘When the lights be out, all cats be gray.’”

  “Was Heywood a brother?”

  “No. Actually, he was a white 16th century English writer.”

  Bill slowly rubbed his crotch while he thought for a moment. “Well, what Heywood forgot to mention was that, even when the lights be out, some cats be havin’ bigger dicks.”

  Bill had a point. And, as I happened to know from our little threesome with Mai, a pretty good sized cock. But he wasn’t one of those porn-star types whose cocks are so big that they don’t have enough blood supply to get hard. Bill’s cock stood up rock-hard.r />
  “So you’re gonna try to score with the brunette?” I asked as my stomach did a flip-flop.

  Bill nodded as he continued to gaze at Karen. “Might need your help.”

  “Afraid you can’t handle her by yourself?”

  Bill laughed and shook his head. “Aw, man, you know that ain’t true. But I might need you to keep the redhead busy.”

  I had a mental image of the four of us in bed together. Me with the redhead. Bill with Karen. My stomach churned…but my balls ached. I didn’t really want to admit it, but my mental image of Karen with Bill was a turn-on, at least on the fantasy level. And I was pretty sure that’s all it ever would be.

  Karen spotted me. I saw her eyes shift to Bill and then back to me. Then she looked back to her girlfriend. Bill kept his eyes on Karen while he leaned over to me and muttered something about how he was getting aroused just watching her. Karen kept stealing glances at us as she and her girlfriend ordered drinks.

  “See what I mean,” Bill said, sitting up straight again. “The brunette keeps looking over here. I think she has the itch. Maybe hubby hasn’t been keeping her satisfied. Maybe she’s ready to give a brother a ride. Find out if all those stories are true.”

  Another vision roared through my brain. Karen straddling Bill, sliding up and down his cock. My own cock began to swell.

  “Maybe she just wants to dance,” I said. “Figures a black guy would be a good dancer.”

  “Yeah, maybe. But you know what they say about dancing.”

  “Prelude to sex?” My stomach knotted.

  “Yep.” Bill downed the rest of his martini and set the empty glass on the bar. “Well, here goes. Wish me luck.” He gave his crotch a squeeze as he slipped off his bar stool.

  He was about half-way over to Karen when she glanced up and saw him coming. Her eyes flickered to me. I held up my hands with my palms about a foot apart. Karen shook her head slightly and rolled her eyes. She turned and said something to her girlfriend. The girlfriend looked at Karen and then spotted Bill as well. The girlfriend said something back. Karen cracked a smile and looked up at Bill just as he reached her.

  Bill leaned down and said something to her. She nodded and gave Bill her hand as she rose from her seat. He held her hand as he led her through the crowd to the dance floor. The redhead followed them with her eyes.

  It suddenly occurred to me that I’d never seen Karen dance. Well, I’d seen her stripping at the bachelor party, but that was hardly the same thing. So I was pleased, and aroused, and somewhat jealous, to see how well she moved with Bill.

  He must have been pleased and aroused as well. He wasn’t fully erect, but I could tell that he was somewhat swollen, judging from the way the head of his cock wagged patterns across the front of his pleated slacks as he danced.

  They must have stayed out on the dance floor for a dozen songs. During that time, the redhead was asked to dance a couple of times by a couple of different guys. Each time, they danced only one song, and then she came back to her table.

  When Bill and Karen finally decided to take a break, he walked her to her table and then came back to the bar. I watched the bulge in his pants sway back and forth as he approached. I figured he must be wearing boxers.

  Bill ordered another martini and turned to me. “Good news. Hubby’s gone…at sea. Won’t be back for a while. Just might give me a chance to get into her panties.”

  “Don’t think you’ve already swept her off her feet?”

  “Oh…I’m pretty sure she’s into me. But she has that girlfriend with her, so I don’t know. They might have to go home together tonight. You know, keep up appearances. So I might have to ask her to go out with me another night.”

  “Looks like you’ve got some competition,” I said, nodding toward Karen. She was getting up to dance with another guy. He was Asian, perhaps twenty-five or so. Much closer to Karen’s age than either Bill or I.

  Bill snorted and grabbed his crotch. “She’s already seen this. I don’t think I need to worry about some small-dick Asian guy.”

  “I wouldn’t trust that stereotype. Mai’s got a girlfriend married to a Korean guy. Mai says his dick is huge. The girlfriend complains about it all the time.”

  Bill shrugged and continued watching Karen until the song was over and the guy walked her back to her table. Bill muttered something about “not having any more of that shit,” and stood up. He chugged his martini and coughed. He thumped himself on the chest a couple of times and strode back to Karen’s table. He had her back on the dance floor in mere seconds.

  I watched as Karen and Bill danced song after song. Karen showed no sign of tiring of dancing…or of Bill.

  The redhead danced a few songs as well, but as before, each guy got only one song, and none of them returned to ask again.

  Finally, Bill walked Karen back to the table. She said something to the redhead, and the two of them headed off across the club. I assumed that they were going to the ladies’ room. Bill sat down at their table and watched them go.

  A couple of minutes later, my cell phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text message from Karen.

  You know him?

  I glanced at Bill. He was gazing in the direction of the ladies’ room, so he probably wouldn’t notice me texting. I held my phone down in my lap as I keyed in my reply.

  Yes. Good guy.

  He knows about us?

  No. Our secret.

  He asked me out. Lead him on?

  Up to you.

  Maybe. Not sure.

  Say you’re tempted, but married. Need to think about it. Answer him later.

  How? Give him my phone #?

  No, email.

  Good idea. OK. You ask Marilyn to dance.

  That’s who that is?

  Yes.

  She knows about us?

  Knows you exist. Doesn’t know your face. Our secret.

  OK. I’ll play along.

  So the elegant redhead was the mysterious Marilyn. I had heard her name many times because she often babysat Karen’s children when Karen was with me. And early-on in our relationship, Karen had mentioned something about how Marilyn had told her how to do a prostate massage. But until now, I never actually had seen Marilyn. I guess I always had imagined her as some frumpy housewife. Clearly, the real Marilyn was anything but. My curiosity was piqued.

  Ten minutes later, Karen and Marilyn returned and sat down with Bill. Karen shot me a couple of quick glances as they chatted a bit and sipped their drinks. Marilyn sat and watched as Bill and Karen headed back to the dance floor. I thought about what Karen had said. You ask Marilyn to Dance. I wondered why. She had been asked by plenty of other guys, even if none of them came back for a second time. And then I thought, why not? It wasn’t like I had anything to lose. I wasn’t trying to get anywhere with her.

  I finished my drink and sauntered toward Marilyn. She was looking the other way, watching Karen and Bill, and didn’t see me coming. I glanced at the boomers gyrating on the dance floor and wondered if I was about to make a total fool of myself. I never was very good at those sixties-style dance moves.

  But suddenly it was one of those moments when I think I have a guardian angel looking out for me. Just as I was about to reach Marilyn, Johnny Mathis began to sing “Misty.” That was a 60s song I could dance to.

  When I stepped up next to Marilyn, I cast a shadow over the table. She turned suddenly and looked up at me. I hadn’t planned what I was going to say. I guess I just figured something would come up. Nothing did. I held out my hand in invitation. She smiled and took it. Her touch sent a thrill through me as she stood and followed me to the dance floor.

  I placed my right hand on her waist and lifted my left in expectation that she would take it. Instead, she put her hands on my shoulders. So, I placed my left hand on her waist as well. She was just close enough that her breasts occasionally brushed against my chest as we swayed with the music. We both were watching Karen and Bill.

  “Looks like your frien
d is getting along pretty well with my friend,” I said.

  “Yeah, looks like. I hope she knows what she’s doing.”

  Given the game Karen and I were playing, I didn’t know how to reply to that. I just concentrated on keeping time with the music.

  When the song ended, Johnny immediately followed up with “Chances Are.” Marilyn and I continued to dance without missing a beat. I wondered what it meant that I was the first guy to dance more than one song with her.

  After a minute or so, Marilyn leaned back a bit and looked into my eyes. “Look,” she said, “I just want to be up front about this. You need to know that I’m not going to go to bed with you.”

  “Um…okay...” I wondered if she had been so direct with the other guys. Maybe that’s why none of them asked her for a second dance.

  “Don’t take it personally” she continued. “It’s just that I’m a happily married woman.”

  “Lucky husband.”

  “Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

  “I’m being sincere. And I’m not trying to hit on you.”

  “Oh? So all you’re interested in is dancing?”

  “Didn’t say that. I mean, I am a healthy and relatively sane heterosexual man. But I believe you mean what you say, and I’ll respect that.”

  She continued to gaze into my eyes as the song wound down. I could see the wheels turning behind those big green eyes, but I had no idea what she was thinking. The song ended. We stopped moving, still holding each other, still gazing into each other’s eyes. A couple of heartbeats later, the music started again. Another slow song. Johnny once again. This time it was “The Twelfth of Never.”

  “Shall we?” I asked.

  “Oh, why not…”

  As we started to sway with the music again, Marilyn released her grasp on my shoulders and slid her arms around my neck, lightly pressing herself against me. My impulse was to pull her hard against me and give her a big kiss. I resisted. I didn’t want to scare her off. As our cheeks touched and I caught her fresh fragrance, a thrill ran down my back. I eased my arms around her in a gentle hug.