by Bridy McAvoy
“Scoot. No peeking.”
“You’re the one who left the door open.” I knew that had been deliberate but I had no intention of making a fuss about that. I’d enjoyed the view, and she’d known I would. Making my way back to my chair, I sat down and twisted the tops off both beers. Putting them on the side table, I sat back and waited for her to appear in the doorway. This time she didn’t ask me to close my eyes. I probably would have but the last few days of self-enforced abstinence had taken their toll, especially as she had spent a lot of the time trying to entice me to break the suddenly imposed chastity rule.
When she appeared in the doorway she posed, one leg in front of the other, one arm above her head resting on the door frame. She was a picture of unadulterated lust. Sensuous sexuality oozed from every pore. Up top, the corset pushed her waist in and her chest up. Already well blessed in that department, she appeared even more so. The corset squeezed them together, producing an eye-wateringly tight cleavage which invited the eyes. The corset was cut low as well, so I could see the darkness of her areolas poking out of the top. All she had to do to get the corset to drop below her breasts would be to stretch her arms up into the air—they’d pop right out. It was a wonder they hadn’t already done so. One arm above her head was not quite enough, but it was a close run thing.
The red and black stripe detail I’d noticed on the back continued around the front, the contrasting colors accenting her natural coloring. The garters ran down from the high cut sides of the garment to her stocking tops, in a pattern of twisting red and black. The thin black stockings only accentuated the look. As she turned around to let me see the back view, I could see why she hadn’t worn the panties earlier. At the back they were nothing more than a thong, parting her butt cheeks but not covering anything. She always said they were uncomfortable, and they would have been if they stayed on very long.
“You like?” She turned back to me, her eyes flashing, but there was a brittle edge to her voice, an edge that said she hoped rather than expected a ‘yes’ answer to her question. My answer was an enthusiastic ‘yes’ and I wasn’t going to play it cool. She’d had to torture herself to confess everything over the last four days. I had to cut her some slack, even if there was more to come.
“You bet I do. Come here.”
She was in my lap like a shot. This time when she kissed me I didn’t pull away. Her tongue sought and was granted entrance and she sighed as her tongue found mine deep inside my mouth. We kissed for a while, my hands roaming on her back but staying clear of her butt. We were both breathless by the time we broke the kiss. Her eyes were filled with promise, and I knew mine were echoing the same back.
She reached behind her for the beers, stretching as she did so. Of course, almost on cue, her left breast, complete with very stiff nipple, popped out of the top of the corset.
“Oops!”
She didn’t flinch as my head dipped to capture the tender morsel in my teeth for a second then sat back up. Her eyes were heavy with lust as she handed me my beer then took a long pull of her own.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, honey?”
“What?”
“Fuck the beer.”
“No, I’d rather fuck you.”
With a squeal she was off my lap and pulling me to my feet. We managed to deposit the beer bottles on the kitchen counter before she dragged me into the bedroom.
Chapter Two – The Bar
It wasn’t the first time I’d been woken up by the smell of cooking, and the delicious sight of my naked wife cooking just beyond the bedroom door. It was something I could definitely get used to. I stretched and she appeared in the doorway, grinning. Her eye line moved along the bed, and I realized I too was naked, having slept that way, and the covers had been tossed away during the night. Morning wood was in evidence as she giggled, but then turned back to the eggs.
“Two minutes, so there’s no time for that, darling.”
I realized the drapes were open and anyone could see in, so quickly fished around for yesterday’s boxers—I’d put a clean pair on after showering.
We ate in companionable silence, but Sam didn’t bother to dress. She seemed unconcerned about her nudity, even when a boat chugged along the lake not that far out from the shore the condo overlooked.
“What are we going to do today, honey?”
I knew my answer would change the mood in an instant, but I knew we had to get the confessions over with before we had any chance of moving on. She saw my hesitation and bit her lip. It was like someone had thrown a switch.
“You need to tell me more.”
She sighed. “Okay, but shower first.”
“As long as you get dressed afterward. It’s distracting.”
She pouted then smiled, but it was nothing like the wide smile of a couple of minutes earlier. “If I must.”
“Yeah, you must.”
“So be it.”
“You shower first. I’ll clean up the kitchen, then shower while you dress.”
She nodded and rose gracefully to her feet. She paused, giving me the chance to look at her naked form again, then she headed for the bathroom.
Half an hour later we sat down with a coffee and she started again.
* * * *
That weekend, just before you proposed, was a difficult one for me to get my head around. We spoke a couple of times on that Sunday, and I knew you were under pressure with your two final assessment boards and your viva coming up on your thesis. I was confident you’d pass and finally get what you’d been working toward, but you weren’t.
I was upset that you weren’t confident in yourself, and it irritated me. It shouldn’t have. Let’s face it, you knew what you were facing, I didn’t. I hadn’t even made it to community college. I had my high school diploma which I hadn’t really had to work for. Although I’d had a scare a few months earlier over my ALA qualification, it wasn’t hard compared to what you were doing. But I was irritated.
I wanted the relationship to survive, but I guess I was thinking selfishly—how could it if we didn’t see each other? Stupid really, just stupid. But that was what was going around in my head. I wouldn’t see you until the Saturday after your final assessments.
You passed—of course you did—with flying colors, but they tortured you until the last minute, and I turned out to be no help at all. I was also worrying about what would happen when you qualified. You kept a secret from me. You already had a job offer—here, with Bruce—in your pocket, as long as you got your doctorate. I knew nothing about that, and I guess fear played a part in my actions—fear you’d get a job on the other side of the country and move away.
So there was I, having just had incredible sex with more than one man at a time, irritated with my boyfriend, and scared I’d lose him—either from you moving away or, worse, from you finding out what I’d done. Despite the shame I’d initially felt, what was a girl to do?
I know now the last thing I should have done was go back to the bar, or make contact with them again. But, I did exactly that.
It was incredibly stupid, but I guess it made me feel wanted. Honey, I’m so sorry. I’d trapped our relationship in a mire of assumed virginity that I’d imposed, and there I was wanting sex.
To cut it short, lunchtime on Monday, I called Skinner’s Bar and asked to speak to Jim. He answered the phone and chuckled when I didn’t recognize his voice.
“This is Jim.”
“Oh, hi, this is…Sammie from Saturday.”
“Hi there, sexy, what’s up?”
“Nothing… I…”
He laughed but then his voice turned serious. “You got a problem with what happened on Saturday? If so, I have to say it was consensual…”
I suddenly realized he was thinking I was making a complaint or, worse still, was sitting in a downtown police station with a detective listening in.
“No, nothing like that.”
“Good to hear. I did wonder when you said who you were…”
He laughed again, this time with genuine amusement in his voice. “Why, you looking for a repeat?”
I swallowed hard and didn’t answer for a minute. My face must have gone bright red.
“I just hit the nail on the head, didn’t I? Am I right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You sexy little thing. You want a repeat and you want to be sober too.”
“I… I guess, yes.”
I was seriously embarrassed. I mean, here I was ringing a man I’d met and slept with in the space of a couple of hours. Then let him and a couple of his friends sex me up all night. Now I was ringing to ask him to set it up again. I’d never asked a man for sex in my life—never had to! Talk about role reversal.
“Well, baby, I’m sure I can oblige.”
I could almost hear him panting in eagerness down the phone.
“Problem is, I might be short of a few partners for you tonight. Monday’s a slow night and, although I’ve got Ben here tonight on the bar, I’ll be giving him a hand.”
“I’ve got work tomorrow.”
“Doesn’t stop you having some fun, though, does it?”
“I guess not.”
It was obvious he wanted to see me again, and was offering just himself.
“Listen, baby, I’ve got a delivery due soon. Why don’t you come in late tonight? We close at eleven, so you come in a bit after ten. We won’t be that busy, so we can talk. Maybe set something up for Friday. In any case, after we close up, we can…you know, get down and dirty, just us.”
I shuddered. He had as good as told me he wanted me to show up in a public bar, knowing that about an hour after I got there he’d have me naked as he fucked me.
I laughed but I could feel my core heat up. It wasn’t embarrassment this time—pure arousal coursed through my veins.
“Sounds good…I guess.”
“That’s the ticket. Look, Sammie, I gotta go. Wear something nice for me. See you at ten. Bye.”
He cut the call and left me looking at my phone. The arrogant bastard was telling me to dress sexy just for him. If I was going to dress sexy it was for me, not for some arrogant Bull who thought he could play hide the sausage. The trouble was, I was the one who’d rung him because that’s what I wanted him to do. Well, him and his friends again. Only this time I wanted to be sober while I did it.
I shuddered, trying to control my feelings. Part of me wanted to tell him to F Off— his arrogance was a turn-off. At the same time I wanted what he could offer—that hot, heavy loving. Despite myself, despite feeling so awkward about everything on Sunday morning, I knew I’d enjoyed it. I just didn’t remember enough about it.
I went back to the library, and it was obvious to my boss that I was distracted, but when I didn’t answer his questions he left it alone. As always with Mr. Bryant, it wasn’t that far alone. At closing time he pulled down the blinds as he told me to strip right there in the middle of the library. By the time I was pulling my panties down, he had moved everything on my desk to one side and it was obvious what he was going to do.
He, though, had a different idea. I expected him to bend me over my desk and fuck me, but he didn’t. He did, indeed, bend my naked body over my desk, but then he pressed his head in between my thighs and licked me. His tongue travelled from end to end of my slit and pressed against my clit. Then he stuck it between my outer lips and licked the inside surface of those as his fingers held my pussy spread. I moaned and thrust my ass back at him as he moved on from the appetizer to the main course and ate me to one orgasm after another. Then it was dessert course, but this time I was the one eating as he roughly shoved his hard cock into my mouth and thence into the top of my throat. He was rougher than usual and came quickly, flooding my mouth with his spunk. As he pulled out he refused to let me go and clean up. Instead, he stuffed my underwear into my blouse and insisted I drove home without any on.
He did this from time to time. I guess it was his way of demonstrating his innate power over me. After eighteen months I didn’t need him to do that. I guess I was submissive around him, and let him do anything he wanted. Except for one thing. I was determined not to do anal with him, or anyone else. That, I would at least reserve.
She smiled gently. “I reserved it for you, honey, and you never asked for it.”
“I might now.”
“You can have it now, anytime…I mean that.”
“Not right this minute. Maybe later.”
“Up to you, lover.” Her smile was wider, loving, but the story she was telling me was of something different, a betrayal of the first order, and I know she knew it.
Once home, I followed my usual ritual whenever my boss had been playing his games. I showered before getting dinner ready, then selected what I wanted to wear and put it in my car. At about nine I backed out of the garage and came down here, my makeup and hair already done. I’d gone for a simple pony-tail, much like I wore to work.
I put my work clothes for the following day in the car too, intending to stay at the condo once I left the bar. Once here, I changed and then double-checked everything, making sure I looked like I wanted to—or rather what he wanted me to. I looked like a young woman going to a bar to fuck the manager.
Driving into town I had second thoughts but kept going. Parking was easy in town. After all, it was a Monday night, so I managed to park outside the bar. Looking through the window, I could see there were only a few customers in the place, and I could see Jim and another barman, which would be Ben, behind the bar. I picked up my purse and locked the car then, taking a deep breath, I walked into the place. It was just short of ten, so I was early. I blushed a little as Jim’s eyes swept over me—not because he was looking at me and liking what he was seeing, but because I realized by being early I was giving the impression of being eager.
I’d chosen my outfit with a great deal of care. Too slutty a dress would have been too much, so instead I’d gone with a top and skirt. The skirt, short, tight and black, had buttons up the front but there were a lot of them. Of course I was wearing stockings, black ones, but again hold-ups rather than garters. The skirt covered the tops of them when I walked, but probably wouldn’t when I sat down. My underwear, black, matched, of course—after all, a guy was going to be seeing them, and removing them. My top, though, was very different and was what turned the outfit from smart to sexy. It was scarlet red, but very thin. I’ve heard those kind of tops referred to as onion skins. Basically, it was a roll neck with long sleeves that covered me completely. It covered me, but it concealed nothing. The black silk of my bra was fully visible through it. If I hadn’t been wearing a bra anybody would have seen every detail of my breasts, right down to the goose bumps on my areolas around my erect nipples.
Conversation stilled in the bar. There were about a dozen guys there, and every one of them stopped what they were doing to turn and look at me. Ben was standing there with his mouth half open. Jim, next to him, had a smile on his face. I guess I’d really made an impression. I was hot. I could feel moisture leaking into my panties as I strolled across the room. I guess everyone there thought I was taking my time so I could be seen. I wasn’t doing it for that reason at all—the skirt was so tight I had to take baby steps.
Jim walked down to the end of the bar, opened the flap and stepped out to meet me. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a general movement toward me come to a stop as the customers realized that Jim knew me. He put his arm around my waist, possessively I thought. I guess he was warning everyone in the bar to step away—I was his, and his alone. A good job I guess. If he hadn’t it might well have been open season on me. I had brief visions of me being gangbanged on one of the pool tables, but I shut them out. I wasn’t here for that, I was here to see Jim. Of course, I was also here to be fucked by him once the bar closed, but that was later.
“Hi, sexy.”
I smiled at him. “Hi.”
<
br /> “Don’t you make a pretty picture tonight? Are you going to give me a twirl?”
I giggled, I couldn’t help it—the idea of twirling around so everybody got a look at all of me was preposterous. “Not in this skirt.”
“What would you like to drink?”
“Diet coke? I meant it, I have work tomorrow. No alcohol.”
“No problem. Diet coke it is.”
He ushered me toward the stool next to the flap he used to go behind the bar. Even with him holding my hand I had a hard time climbing onto the stool. The skirt was damned tight. I should have loosened the bottom couple of buttons before coming into the bar, but I didn’t. It rode up, a long way on my thighs, exposing leg well above the stockings. Everyone watched my struggle and enjoyed the show. That got me hot, I have to admit it. I was becoming quite an exhibitionist when I was anywhere without you. Sorry, honey, but it’s the truth.
The front door banged as someone entered the bar and, as I was adjusting my skirt, I didn’t pay too much attention. The guy, in typical workman’s clothes, bellied up to the bar right next to me. In fact, between me and the vacant stool next to me. It was obvious what he wanted. After all, virtually all the stools at the bar were free—he didn’t need to be that close. He was, because I guess he saw me, young, sexy, and alone. Jim brought me the drink I’d asked for.
“I’ll get that.”
“Already paid for.”
“Oh.”
