My entire body shuddered.
I had to hold on tighter, this time grabbing his head by the hair, and pushing his tongue down further inside of me. I pushed him while my legs stayed open there on the couch, suspended in mid-air, while I pulled and prodded the perfectly groomed blonde locks of his hair.
My body shuddered again.
I didn’t think I could stand the ecstasy. I was having trouble not making egregious noises and alerting the office staff as to the scandalous nature of what was occurring. And, it really was scandalous. But it was so incredibly good.
After I finished off my second climax, he stood and positioned himself in front of me. That was my signal. I went to work unbuckling the belt of his pants, slid the pantsuit down towards his ankles, and was nearly smacked in the face with his massive erection. I grabbed it and began stroking it back and forth, as the small veins on the side became engorged and swelled to enormous proportions. I stroked it really hard, back and forth, and he cocked his head back in pleasure. He was certainly enjoying it. My hands were enjoying the underside of his balls as I stroked him harder and harder, all the while I was dripping wet all over the couch.
He couldn’t take it any longer. He inserted himself in my mouth, and grabbed the back of my head and shoved my mouth down hard onto him. I gagged for a moment, taking him all the way into the back of my mouth. I had to loosen up my throat to handle his manhood. Once I got in a rhythm, it was smooth sailing. I sent him in and out of my mouth, sliding and gliding his massive erection down my throat. I could feel it swell even further inside my mouth, as I grabbed the side of it and pulled it harder and harder in.
He cocked his head back again in ecstasy. I could feel him swelling bigger and bigger, as he glided faster and faster down my mouth. It felt so good as my tongue wrapped and glided around it, and all I could do was picture him entering me. I think he sensed that, and pushed me down onto the couch and flipped me over, mounting me in one swift motion. As he entered me, I closed my eyes, grabbed the edge of the couch, and bit down on the leather armrest for fear of screaming at the top of my lungs. He entered me quickly, and thrust himself viciously inside of me. The feeling was incredible.
My mind was spinning and reeling as he thrust in and out, faster, and faster, pounding me from behind as I lay on the couch taking all of him inside of me. I didn’t think that it could feel as good as it did, but it was even more incredible than the last time. It was so dangerous and dirty, doing it there in his office of all places, right under the nose of his entire staff. He kept pounding away at me, and I could hear him grunting under his breath as he reached down under me and grabbed my nipples and stroked them as he rammed in and out.
I could feel him swelling bigger and bigger inside of me, and going faster and faster, and I knew his climax was near. I was anxiously awaiting his hot, sticky, manhood from sliding and creaming inside of me, filling me to the brim. Eventually, he exploded and shot his silky sperm inside of me until it overflowed. It was a hot sticky mess, and he grabbed the side of my head and kissed me passionately, shooting his tongue back into my mouth again.
Robert Dorning.
I was in heaven. I didn’t care anymore what happened. I just wanted to be taken just like that, right there, over, and over again. I wanted to let him have his way with me, and do whatever he wanted to do. I was willing to do anything it took to be his; to be all his.
5
“So what’s bothering you?” I asked Amy. We were sitting in an uptown coffee shop off Park Avenue, when she dropped the bombshell on me.
“I think Robert’s cheating on me,” she said.
My heart sank. I gulped down hard. “What would make you think that?” I asked.
“Woman’s intuition. I just have this feeling. You know the kind of feeling you get sometimes when something just doesn’t feel right? Us women are far better at picking up on this than men are. You know what I’m talking about, right?”
Of course, I knew what she was talking about. I knew exactly what she was talking about. But, in fact, that woman’s intuition stems from a woman’s ability to better read kinesics – body language – in other people. Us women are much better at seeing the signs for when someone is lying to us, or when something just doesn’t seem right. What people don’t realize is that, when they lie, they give off certain physical and verbal cues that give them away. They don’t realize it at the time, but it happens. And unless they are professional con artists, it’s very difficult to hide those things.
It’s a little bit like playing poker. If you’ve heard of something called a “tell,” it’s when another player knows someone is bluffing. They may either blink a few times, scratch their ear, or do something else that signals just what they’re thinking. They “tell” that they are bluffing through their body language. Professional poker players are excellent kineseologists, or students of body language. So when she told me she just had a sense that Robert was lying, of course, she was right.
Little did she know, however, that her best friend – which would be me – was sleeping with her husband. I’m not quite sure what she would have said, had I come out and told her that “Yes, your husband is cheating on you, and I’m the one he’s cheating on you with.” I think she would have probably been in a state of shock for one, then she would probably have had a nervous breakdown. The thought of that just wasn’t appealing to me. Plus, I had an agreement with Robert Dorning. I was on a mission.
“I don’t know, Amy, this is so out of the blue. I thought you guys were so in love? You’ve never told me about any problems that have been on the horizon. I thought it was easy street with you two,” I said.
She didn’t look impressed. She knew she hadn’t come clean to me in the past, and she had to spill the beans now. “Well,” she said, “ I guess I haven’t been completely honest with you about things.”
“Oh?” Well, that was pretty obvious.
“Yes,” she said, “it’s been a really difficult time. It’s been the worst year of our marriage thus far, and I feel like we’re drifting further and further apart. I mean, we used to do things together all the time, and now, it’s like we live our separate lives. He shuts me up with money, and that’s fine to a certain extent, but I would rather have more of his time, than his money.”
Well, that was a silly statement, I thought. “I still think that you’re just jumping to conclusions.”
“I’m not. I’m most certainly not. For example, a few days back, I smelled another woman’s perfume on his clothing. I mean, it was obvious,” she said.
Wow, I’m very glad I didn’t wear any perfume that morning. “Well, come on,” I said, “it’s entirely possible, but I don’t think it’s plausible. And even if it is true, do you really think he could find someone who’s as beautiful and as smart as you are?” Now I was laying it on thick.
“Well… I guess. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just overreacting, Sara, what do you think? What are your thoughts? Am I just being overly emotional here?”
“No. He’s your husband. Of course, you’re going to be overly emotional about it. Anytime you’re in a relationships, emotions seem to take over, and we all do and say things that maybe we shouldn’t.” I tried not to smile. “But, no relationships is going to be perfect. The grass might not be greener on the other side.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Well, for example, I know I’ve never asked you this question before,” I said, “but, have you never had eyes for someone else? During the entire course of your marriage, have you never looked at another man and felt like you wanted to devour him? Have you ever…” My voice trailed off as I searched for the perfect words to ask.
Amy pursed her lips. I was watching her like a hawk. I was looking for any tells that would give away a lie, or hide a secret from me. Spotting a liar takes a lot of experience, and I’ve grown pretty good at the trait at this point in my life.
Liars do several things both in their words and body language, which mak
e them easy to spot. Firstly, they are shifty – their body movements don’t coordinate with their words. For example, they do things like look off to the left a lot – which accesses the right side of the brain, in charge of creativity. They also become more closed off, by either crossing their legs, their arms, or moving their one hand to their other elbow across their body. This closed off manner is something that’s instinctive. When we were children, we would hide our hands behind our backs when we weren’t telling the truth. Also, we would cower behind one parent as opposed to the other to protect us when we lied. Well, hand crossing, eye movements, and shiftiness are grown up versions of that.
When people lie, they also are much more verbose. They use a lot of words when they could use fewer, in an effort to cover up their lies. If a person is telling the truth, they will generally use fewer words, because they have nothing to hide or to prove to anyone. And, liars use much more profanity. When someone is lying, you will hear them curse much more often than when they are not. These points have actually been proven in psychological studies.
So, as I sat there with my “best friend,” and awaited her answer, I continued to watch her carefully. I was being the worst friend possible – I was being a rat. I was the one that was sleeping with her husband, then going behind her back to try to scoop up information. Of course, I had a lot on the line as well, but clearly I didn’t care that much about our friendship.
“Well, no, I haven’t,” she said, “What would make you think that?” Her answers were short and sweet. She then looked to me, and I didn’t see her do anything strange with her body language. Had she actually been faithful to him? I waited there in suspense for a moment while she continued looking at me with a blank stare.
Was she telling the truth?
“So, you mean to tell me that you’ve never once – never, ever, ever – in your entire relationship, looked at another man, or been with another man in any way shape or form.” I was pressing her now. I was grilling her like an interrogator.
“I don’t understand why you would sit here and think that I would be capable of doing something like that. He and I have been together for so long, why would I want to do that to him? Why would I want to ruin something that’s so good? I was always good to him, and never did anything to him that would remotely be considered as unfaithful.”
She was lying!
How did I know? Well, the biggest sign of them all in that very verbose statement was the use of third-person pronouns. That would be words like: he, she, him, her, his, and hers. A person uses third-person pronouns when they’re lying to distance themselves from the truth, just like they do when they close off their body language.
But, how was I going to get proof?
“Well, that’s not what I’m saying, Amy, I just think that…”
“You think what?” she asked. “Do you actually believe that I’m capable of that? Do you actually believe that I would ruin something that’s so good?”
Yes, she was certainly capable of it. All women are capable of it. Maybe I’m just a cynic, but it’s true. That’s the real truth. “Yes, you’re capable of it, Amy, because all women are. We all want what we can’t have.”
“Well, that’s just not me. I’m not capable of it, and I don’t agree with you at all. I don’t think that all women are capable of that.”
“I guess we can agree to disagree, then,” I said.
She gave me another blank stare, and continued to argue with me for another thirty minutes as to why she wasn’t capable of it. She was totally lying. Now, I just had to uncover the truth. “I guess so,” she remarked coldly.
I had to change the subject. “Okay, well, let’s talk about something else. I’m sorry I’m not being more supportive of you, maybe I just live in this fantasy world of fiction.”
“Like your books?” she said, coldly.
“Like my books? I thought you said you didn’t read my books?” In fact, Robert Dorning had admitted that not only did she read my books, but that she loved my books.
“Well, I don’t.” she looked away.
“You don’t? Then how would you know anything about my books?”
“Well, I’ve read the descriptions of them.” She was lying right to my face now. Why did she not want to admit to me that she had read my books? What was she afraid of?
“Sounds like you’ve read more than that,” I said, and smiled.
I had caught her. She was lying the entire time, but she was a good liar. She was a good liar because I guess I never really thought to pay close attention to it, or never really cared that much. But there was something hidden there. Something sadistic. I knew it. I could feel it, and I was going to find out. I was going to find it all out somehow.
6
When a person like Robert Dorning makes you an “Offer you can’t refuse,” you don’t just throw it to the wayside. When a person like that offers you something that you’ve always wanted, you go after it, and you go after it with a vengeance. Now, most people may call me a bad person, or a really bad friend, but I’m simply an opportunist. What can I say? In this world, it’s survival of the fittest, and we’re programed for something called selfish survival. Well, that’s our instinct, anyways. We will do whatever it takes to survive.
But us humans, we’re here to do more than just survive – we’re here to thrive. We all want to thrive in every way possible. Think about it? Don’t you want to thrive? Don’t you want a better life for yourself? Of course you do. We all do, which is why we’re always looking for the next best thing. We are looking to thrive, and as a woman, I certainly want to thrive. I want to thrive by bedding the most eligible man who can carry my seed. It’s true. We are genetically predispositioned to go after the best male to carry our seed; it’s just that we all go about it a little bit differently.
So, my little arrangement with Robert Dorning was definitely all about thriving. I wanted him, and I wanted him bad. I wasn’t thinking about the potential fallout. I now knew that if Amy got wind of what was going on, all hell would break loose. But did I care? Not really. I wasn’t really that concerned with Amy, because I knew she had something hiding in her own closet. I just had to find it. I had to figure out a way that I could access her skeletons. But how? Robert Dorning said he had used private investigators in the past, but they weren’t able to uncover anything. How was I going to dig up, what they couldn’t?
I knew there was really only one way to do it. I knew that I would have to catch her in the act. I would have to bait her, in order to get the dirt on her. That was the only way. And the only way to bait her, was going to be to take her out and get her completely intoxicated, to the point where she threw all her caution to the wind. And I was going to be right there. I was going to be right there with a camera, to capture of all of the juicy action as it happened.
That was my plan.
I picked up the phone to call Amy. “Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” she said back.
“I wanted to apologize to you for the other day at coffee. I know I may have come across kind of rude and inconsiderate,” I said.
“I was just about to say the same thing to you. You know, this has been a difficult time for me, and I feel like Robert is distancing him self more and more, so I’m lashing out. You’re really the only close friend that I have. I don’t know what I would do with out you. You’ve always been there for me, Sara.”
Now she was laying it on thick. “ Thanks, I appreciate that. I’ve always considered you my best friend.” Another lie from me.
“Thanks, that means so much to me.”
“Well, there’s another reason that I’m calling, actually,” I said.
“Yeah?”
“I wanted to make it up to you. I think we need a girls night out. I think we need to gather a few close friends, head out on the town, and really tear things up. It’s been forever since we’ve done anything like that together.”
“That actually sounds like such a good idea,” she said.
Yes! Score! “Okay, great, how does this weekend sound, then? What are your plans? Are you in town?” She was always leaving town for some function or event. You lead that life when you’re married to a billionaire. That’s my future life she was living.
“No plans for once. That sounds really good. Where should we go?”
“Well, we should start out with dinner somewhere, and drinks of course, then hit a nightclub.” It had been forever since I had done the whole nightclub thing, but I was willing to go just to be able to seal the deal and get the dirt.
“Okay, that sounds terrific. Saturday night?” she asked.
“Yes, Saturday night. I’ll start planning.”
“Good,” she said, “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me too,” I said. “Me too.”
To be continued…
Thank you
Thank you for taking the time out to read the second part in this short story series. I hope that you enjoyed reading it. I would appreciate if you could take a few moments of your time to fill out a review on Amazon. Your input means a great deal to me.
Stay tuned for more tales in the series from Sara Beckett’s very interesting and intriguing life.
Part III
The third part of this series is available for download on Amazon. Find out what happens next in Heat Wave Part 3.
Heat Wave - Part 2 - Erotika Short Stories for Women (Adult Short Stories for Women Series) Page 3
