by Lexi Archer
He hadn’t even made the indecent proposal. Yet. There was still something about the way he looked at me that made me think we weren’t all that far from him making the indecent proposal, but it wasn’t out there.
He did take my hand and pull it up to his lips. He just brushed those lips against my hand, but it was enough to send a shiver running down through me. It was also enough to have me wet between my legs, and I was suddenly squeezing my thighs together and enjoying the extra bit of stimulation I was getting there.
I couldn’t believe I was actually thinking like this. I was a married woman, and I was happy with Tommy. He gave me everything I could ever want. Sure he didn’t have a mansion like this asshole, but that didn’t mean anything. Not really. All it meant was this guy got lucky in the ‘00s back when country music that sounded more like pop music was starting to become the big thing.
Then his lips were away from my hand and we were moving along. Tommy put a hand into the small of my back. I lovd it when he did that, and I loved it even more now that he was doing it to me here. It was a reassurance. A reminder that I was a happily married woman, damn it, and the fact that I was getting a little hot and bothered looking at God’s gift to country music didn’t change anything.
“So do you want to tell me what the hell that was all about?” Tommy asked once we were out of earshot of Ray Bob and the receiving line that had him looking like royalty straight out of some movie or something.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
My voice gave me away. It squeaked even as I asked him what he was talking about. My voice wasn’t supposed to squeak like that, but here we were. And from the odd appraising look Tommy gave me, he was interested more than anything that my voice was squeaking like I didn’t want to give something away.
“You were shivering when he brushed his lips against your hand,” Tommy finally said after what seemed like an eternity. “You usually only do that when I’m the one kissing on you, so do you want to tell me what’s going on here?”
I closed my eyes. Shivered just a little. And I figured it was probably for the best to just be honest. He was my husband, after all, and if I couldn’t be honest with my husband then who could I be honest with?
“I got the feeling he was devouring me with his eyes,” I said. “Like he was staring at me like he wanted to fuck me.”
Tommy let out a little laugh that drew some attention, and so I put a hand on his arm and pulled him along. The last thing I needed was for us to draw the wrong sort of attention. Especially when we were surrounded by the kind of people who went to this sort of party on the regular. The last thing I needed was for one of them to overhear me talking about what I thought went on at these parties.
Best case scenario I was wrong, and I’d look like a total jackass in front of all the people who came to these parties because I was just some rube from the country who didn’t know anything about how the world worked here in Nashville.
Worst case scenario? I was totally right about what went on here, and all those people would be looking at me like they wanted nothing more than to fuck me. The thing was, the more I thought about being at a party like that, the more turned on I got at the idea of something like that maybe actually happening.
We pulled into a quiet little alcove. At least I figured it was quiet enough. We’d moved far enough into the party that there was some sort of country music blasting through the place, probably the latest person to be signed by Ray Bob’s record company which was a subtle reminder of the stakes here tonight, but it was quiet enough that I could hear myself think.
“What’s gotten into you tonight?” Tommy asked when we were in the quiet little alcove. “It’s not like he’s the first guy who’s ever wanted to fuck you. If I had to go getting jealous of every guy who wanted to fuck my wife then I’d be spending every waking hour I have trying to get into fights to defend your honor. Not much time for making music when I’m getting pissed off at the world because of how sexy my wife is.”
I sighed. There was something to what he’d said. Not to mention Tommy had always been the kind of guy who was strangely not jealous. Like it didn’t seem to matter to him at all when other guys were checking me out. No, he just laughed at it and then went on with his life.
It was the kind of thing that’d driven me a little batty back when we first got together. Back when I had some crazy idea that a man should be all about defending his woman’s honor. Back before I’d realized how low key wonderful it was that I didn’t have to worry about my man going crazy on every guy who checked me out.
Especially when he was absolutely right. There were a lot of guys who checked me out, when you got down to it, and if he spent all his time trying to fight dudes who were obviously into me then that would very quickly become his full time job.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I think it’s just something about this party. I mean seeing that guy standing there looking at me and knowing he wants to fuck me, knowing what he could do for your career if he decides he likes us, I guess…”
Tommy barked out another laugh. This time no one looked at him, because we were on our own. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching us. I wasn’t sure where that feeling came from, but it was there and it felt weird.
“So what, you think Ray Bob Donovan is going to make an indecent proposal? I get a record contract if you fuck him?”
He stared at me for a long moment. I bit my lip. I knew it sounded ridiculous, especially now that he’d come out and said it like that, but I also couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more than simply wanting to meet us that was going on here.
Then something else occurred to me. I pressed forward just a little. Just enough that I could feel the hardness in his pants pressing out. Straining out, is more like it. He was getting into this!
Weird. I never would’ve thought that was the sort of thing that’d turn him on, but here we were. So I looked up at him. Forced myself to meet his gaze. I couldn’t believe I was about to say what I was about to say, but I also couldn’t really stop myself from saying what I was about to say.
Things had gone too far for that. I was too turned on. I was too intrigued by the idea that he was turned on.
“What would you say if he did come along and say something like that?” I asked, arching an eyebrow and running a playful finger down his front.
5
Tommy
I stared at my wife and then laughed. She’d always been a hell of a kidder, and there was something about the craziness she was talking tonight that was really out there. Even for her.
I mean honestly. I’d heard some of the stories about Ray Bob Donovan and his tastes for the pretty ladies, but I guess it’d never occurred to me that my wife might be one of those pretties. She was my wife, and that guy was supposed to be all about his people being in stable relationships.
Why would he be into that if he was also into trying to fuck my wife? It was two different views of the world that seemed like they were completely at odds with one another.
No, scratch that. They were two views of the world that were completely at odds with one another. The world simply didn’t work the wayGina seemed to think it worked.
Then she said it. What would I do if it turns out Ray Bob Donovan was interested in making an indecent proposal here tonight? What would I do if it turned out he was interested in giving me the contract I’d been working towards for so long, and the only thing I had to give up was my wife?
For some reason the thought intrigued me a hell of a lot more than it should’ve.
I mean I wasn’t supposed to like the idea of another guy getting all hot and bothered thinking about my wife. That wasn’t the sort of thing any guy was supposed to get all hot and bothered over.
But here I was with my cock rock hard, and all I could think about was what it would look like if she was moving that tight little body over one of the most powerful men in the town. If she was doing everything
she could to drive him wild. If she had all the power because he’d do anything to get with her.
I’d seen plenty of guys looking at my wife like that over the years, after all. It was something that happened so often that I was used to it. Sure it’d always gotten me kinda hot and bothered thinking about other guys getting hot and bothered, we’d always had incredible sex after I saw a dude creeping on her, but I guess I’d never actually thought about what was going on under the hood when I was getting all hot and bothered like that.
Maybe there was a part of me that got a little turned on at the thought of other men getting turned on when they looked at her. There sure as shit was a part of me that was getting turned on thinking about watching her doing her thing with a man like Ray Bob Donovan, for all that there was also a part of me that was screaming that was a terrible fucking idea and the last thing I should be doing is thinking of another man fucking her.
Even if her fucking that other man would literally be the keys to the kingdom, as it were. The doors that man could open up for me if my wife were willing to open up her legs and…
I shook my head and deliberately pushed those thoughts out of my head. I wasn’t supposed to think about my wife getting with another man, so I wasn’t going to think about my wife getting with another man, damn it.
Even if the thought did have my cock rock hard, straining against my pants as I thought about how hot it would be to see her performing like my career and our future lives depended on it.
Not to mention that was the kind of ridiculous thing that happened in the movies. It wasn’t the kind of thing that happened in the real fucking world. The sooner I got over that crazy thinking the better off we’d both be.
Gina arched an eyebrow and I knew I’d been thinking this through for too long. That was the look she got whenever I was thinking a little too much, and she was looking for an answer.
And what an answer it was. She was basically asking me to give her permission to have her way with another man. Not the kind of request you usually expected to get from your wife, but here we were.
“So what do you say?” she asked, biting her lip in a sexy little move that I fucking loved whenever she pulled it. “What do you think of your wife giving herself to another man to save your career?”
I laughed just a little. I also licked my lips. There was something about thinking about her giving herself to another man that was turning me on, whether or not she was doing it to save my career.
“You wouldn’t be saving my career, you know,” I said.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, jutting her lip out in a sexy pout that looked so good on her.
“I mean you wouldn’t be saving my career,” I said. “I don’t have a career to begin with, so it’s not like you’d be saving much of anything. I have to have a career to be saved for you to save it.”
She rolled her eyes. It was the sort of eye roll she hit me with when I was being stupid on purpose. At least “being stupid on purpose” was the way she always phrased it.
Whatever. The point was my wife wasn’t happy. Or maybe there was something else going on here. She turned and looked out towards where the guests were being received, and that was the kind of look that said she was interested in something out there. Which had my cock twitching all over again.
Could it be that she was actually interested in Ray Bob Donovan and whatever he was offering to her? The thought was crazy. She wasn’t into country music. She made fun of stars from his era, though that wasn’t entirely fair considering his “era” was only fifteen to ten years ago or so. It’s not like she’d be fucking the resurrected corpse of Johnny Cash or anything like that.
Still, the thought was intriguing.
“You’re still not answering the question,” she said, stepping forward and pressing herself against me. Which had the added effect of pressing that amazing body of hers up against mine. Which gave me a wonderful view of her breasts pressing up against me. I thought I could even feel her nipples pressing against me, and it was enough to take my breath away!
“So what do you say?” she asked. “Whaddya think about your wife having the ultimate outlaw country experience? Interested?”
I licked my lips again. Swallowed. I looked my wife up and down and thought about her acting like a little groupie slut for Ray Bob, and the thought was more than a little hot. Though of course I wasn’t going to say anything like that. At least I wasn’t going to say anything that gave her the idea I was interested in what she was suggesting.
“Sure babe,” I said, hoping there was the right amount of sarcasm dripping from my voice. “If you get the chance to fuck Ray Bob Donovan in exchange for a record contract or something then I’m totally on board.”
I really hoped she picked up on the sarcasm I was throwing her way, because with the way she was getting all hot and bothered tonight I was really worrying that if she didn’t pick up on that sarcasm then we were going to end the night with her climbing into bed with one of the most famous country music stars of the last generation.
Again that thought intrigued me.
She seemed intrigued as well. She arched an eyebrow at me, and then ran a hand down my front. A hand that didn’t stop until she was grasping my cock and giving it one hell of a feel. Like we’re talking I hadn’t felt a grip that hard around my dick since the good old days when I was feeling up Darcy Thompson in the backseat of my car and she’d gotten a little too enthusiastic while she grabbed me.
She’d had some interesting ideas. Enthusiastic as hell in the sack, but she also had weird ideas. Like the time she got down on her knees in front of me and started blowing on my cock because that’s what she thought it meant to give a guy a blowjob.
Like I said, a little odd, but I couldn’t fault her for being eager. Not to mention she’d been more than happy to give me a proper blowjob once she realized how it was supposed to be done.
“You’re rock hard,” Gina said, and she actually looked a little surprise that I’d be rock hard.
“Well yeah,” I said. “You’re pressing against me and rubbing your hands all over me. How the fuck am I supposed to react to the most beautiful woman in the world pulling something like that on me?”
She laughed and shook her head. Then she gave my cock another squeeze. The kind of squeeze that would’ve said she was ready for some of the business if we were back in our apartment and not in some fancy mansion where we were about to rub elbows with all the movers and shakers in this town.
“You might just come to regret making that little admission by the time the night’s over,” she said with a wink. “But we’ll have to see where the night goes first.”
I swallowed again. I seemed to be doing that a lot around my wife tonight. Then again I wasn’t quite sure who this woman was and what she’d done with my wife the banker who was usually so studious and worried about doing the right thing and not seeming like a total slut or something.
Like we’re talking we’d gone to a pool party at her boss’s house out in the suburbs, the kind of cookie cutter place you expect to find a bank middle manager living where everything is really nice, but it’s also all obviously from the same cookie cutter template. Which is distracting me from what’s important, which is what she was wearing that day when she went to that party. Which was a one piece suit that was just one step ahead of those old fashioned full body suits you saw people wearing at the Jersey shore in old timey photos from way back in the day.
To say I wasn’t sure what the hell was going on with my wife tonight would be one hell of an understatement, but I also didn’t really mind what was going on with her as long as she kept right up with the sexy, because damn!
“I don’t think you’re going to get to a place where Ray Bob Donovan is actually trying to fuck you,” I finally said, letting the truth out there.
She surprised me by reaching up and then pressing her hands down inside my pants. Which was a little difficult considering how tight my jeans were. But
tight jeans and showing off the goods for all the barflies who came down to the place, both male and female, was part of the job description when you were slinging your guitar and trying to sing songs about life in the middle of nowhere.
“You don’t think I’m hot enough to draw the attention of one of the hottest and richest guys in the city?” she asked, her lip jutting out in a pout.
I panicked. There were times when she said things like that because she liked it when the look of panic moved across my face, but there were other times when she said things like that because I’d genuinely hurt her feelings or pissed her off.
The real bitch was it was next to impossible to tell which one it was until I was already well into the doghouse.
I didn’t like being in the doghouse, though I’d gotten a few good songs about it. Songs that’d gotten me even deeper into the doghouse when she heard them for the first time, but they ended up being popular enough and filling my tip hat enough that she didn’t complain all that much.
“I never said that,” I said. “It’s just that this is a party for the rich and famous. There are going to be tons of hot women throwing themselves at him, and it’s not like…”
I could tell from the murderous look she was hitting me with that, once again, I’d completely fucked up. Like there probably wasn’t a device that’d been invented by the science types to show just how much I’d fucked up, and from the way the corner of her mouth quirked up just a little she was enjoying the fuck out of the fact that I’d fucked up.
“So you don’t think that I’m hot enough to go up against the little Barbies they have in there?” she asked. “You don’t think my ass looks just as good as their asses? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
My mouth worked and I desperately tried to come up with something, anything, that would dig me out of this hole I’d created for myself. The only problem being I wasn’t coming up with jack or shit. I figured that I might as well compliment her. That worked well enough most of the time.
