by Ben Boswell
I came hard, shuddering. She didn’t even flinch. She swallowed my first two spurts easily. Taking just the head of my cock in her mouth, she pumped my shaft up and down with her fist, milking every last drop of cum into her mouth.
As good as it felt, it was still like a slap to the face. The reality of her claim to be experienced suddenly felt very real. She’d done this with Chucky. Blown him numerous times in a car, swallowing his load like a whore—a whore who’d also stripped off her panties in a bar, and fucked a stranger in a bathroom.
God, who was this woman?
--------
“We need to talk,” I mumbled. I opened my eyes just in time to see her yank open her door and slip out of the car and up the path to our house.
It took me a few moments to pull myself together so that I didn’t so obviously look like a man who’d just gotten his dick sucked in his driveway, and followed after her.
The first thing that I saw was her black, lacy panties balled up on the floor of the foyer. Then on the stairs, her stiletto pumps, haphazardly discarded. On the second floor landing, her black dress, draped across the carpet like the shed skin of a snake, and then hanging from a closet doorknob, her matching bra.
The door to our bedroom was open, the lights dimmed low.
“Oh God,” I groaned as I walked in.
She was naked, propped up on the bed. Two pillows were wedged beneath her shoulders, and her legs were spread wide, the soles of her feet flat on the sheets of the otherwise stripped bed. Her big tits were pressed together as she reached between her legs with both hands, one spreading her cleanly shaved pussy wide so that I could see the pink wetness within, and the other a blur as it rubbed her clit.
She looked up at me. “What took you so long? Chucky never kept me waiting like this.”
I rocked back on my heels, my emotions racing: anger at being taunted; humiliation at being compared to Chucky; confusion; and most of all lust. I was rock hard again. I can’t even remember stripping off my clothes, but in an instant, I was naked and launching myself at her. No kissing, no foreplay, just my hard prick stabbing wildly at her crotch until the head found her slit. I rammed it home.
She was so wet, so hot, I entered her easily, and took her like a man possessed.
“Ooooh, you are angry at me.” Her lips curled into an amused smirk.
“Is this how you like it? Is this how Chucky fucked you?” I was aroused, but also angry. Barely in control.
She moaned. She grabbed me around the neck, and put her lips close to my ear. I could feel her breath, coming in ragged gasps, hot, moist, and tinged with the unmistakable aroma of my jism.
“Almost...except he did it harder.”
I saw red and snorted like a bull. I rose up on my arms, lifting her head off the pillows as she clung to my neck. I fucked her even faster, sweat dripping from my forehead into the valley between her breasts. Our bodies were slapping together loudly, my dick making obscene squishing sounds as it churned into her wet snatch.
Her lips were still pressed up against my ear. “That’s it baby, give it to me good. Fuck me Chucky!”
I grabbed a handful of her hair and wrenched her away from me, forcing her head back onto the bed.
“You’re a slut,” I hissed.
“Yes!” she groaned in response.
She had her eyes closed now, her hands grasping at her breasts, pinching and pulling on her nipples. She wrapped her legs around my ass.
“Fuck me hard, Chucky, fuck me, oh God, Chucky, fuck meeeeeee....”
She came so hard that she almost bucked me off, her whole body convulsing and her pussy spasming wildly on my cock. I followed immediately after, overwhelmed by her passion.
I was lightheaded. I rolled off her and we both lay there panting. We needed to talk.
But I just needed to catch my breath...
CHAPTER 2:
EXPLANATIONS
I awoke the next morning as a beam of sunlight played across my face. We were naked, spooning, her firm ass against my crotch, my hand wedged between her boobs.
I heard a car door slam and looked at the alarm clock. 10:03 am. Shit, the kids were home.
I shook Terri awake and grabbed my own bathrobe, scrambling down the stairs picking up my wife’s discarded clothes as I went. I stuffed her panties into my pocket just the front door opened.
“We brought bagels,” my mom cheerfully announced.
“You look like shit,” my dad added in a whisper.
He was right. I’d noticed it myself in the hallway mirror. I hadn’t had enough to drink to blame it on hangover, but I felt like shit. Part of it was irritation at Terri’s revelations. An even bigger part was remorse at my own conduct. Jesus, had I really come in her mouth? Had I really called her a slut? Did I really screw her like one?
She was willing, yes. More than willing. But she was also drunk. And I felt like I’d taken advantage of her in ways that even if she were willing to forgive, I’d have a harder time forgiving myself.
I wanted—needed—to talk to Terri, but the day was a blur. We finally packed off my parents after brunch, but then almost immediately Herb and Melody showed up with their kids for a long-planned cookout. The whole time, I kept looking for an opportunity to take Terri aside, but there was never a free moment.
After they left, we still had a bunch of chores to do: cleaning, laundry, reading to the kids. When the kids finally went down, Terri and I collapsed exhausted into our bed.
--------
“We need to talk,” I said simply.
“What about...honey?” she replied with a smirk. For a second, I was sure she was about to call me Chucky again.
“About last night.”
“Didn’t you have fun?”
“Yes, but...” I’d had most of the day to think about what was really bothering me, but it was still hard to put into words. “You were so different last night....”
She sighed. “I was drunk. Feeling silly. Also, you kept suggesting I was a prude, and well, in that black dress with guys looking at me, I didn’t feel like a prude.”
“So, what you made that stuff up?”
“No, but I sort of wish I hadn’t said anything.”
That made me feel worse. “No, don’t say that. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t share things with me.”
“So what’s the issue?”
“It’s just, it seems like you were so different with...with him....”
She laughed. “Him? What is he, Lord Voldemort? The ex-who-must-not-be-named?”
“Okay, Chucky. You were much, I dunno, um, freer with him. I mean, you had sex with him on the first date...”
She shook her head. “No, it—”
“But last night, you said—” I interrupted.
“It wasn’t a date. He picked me up at a club and scored before we even left.” She continued with that lewd grin.
I shook my head. Who was this woman? “You made me wait, like—”
“Almost three months, I think?”
“Yeah,” I snapped, annoyed now. “What was that about?”
“I liked you.”
I snorted. “Well, then you must have loved him.”
She laughed. “Naw, I thought he was an asshole.”
I shook my head. “So...why?”
“Because he was good looking, funny, and seemed like he might be a good time...” She paused and then gave me that amused, and infuriating, smirk, “... and he was.”
I felt a burst of heat in my cheeks and a vision of Terri writhing beneath Chucky flashed through my head.
“And what was I? Some asshole who had to earn it?”
She shook her head. “No, sweetie, you’re not getting it. I knew right away that Chucky was never going to be more than a fling. So I didn’t care if he told all his friends that he banged me in a club. That I was just some hot piece of ass.”
“How do you know I don’t say that about you anyway?”
She laughed. “Oh, is tha
t right? Is that what you and Herb were talking about over the grill?” She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Did you tell him I sucked you off in the driveway last night? That I swallowed all your come? That I was waiting for you in bed, naked and playing with my hot, wet pussy? That I begged you to fuck me hard?”
She snaked her hand into my pants and stroked my cock, which was surprisingly—to me at least—rock hard.
“No, of course not.”
“That’s because you don’t want people to think I’m a whore. See, the worst thing for a guy, if you’re into a girl, is to end up in the friend zone, right?”
I nodded. She was jerking me hard enough to make it hard to talk.
“Well, the worst thing for a girl is ending up in the whore zone.”
“But you did end up dating him...I mean, Chucky, didn’t you?”
“Sort of, but it never worked out. Never had a chance. Even if he wasn’t an asshole, he’d have always just seen me as a whore. So we just ended up as friends with benefits...except we were never really friends...just the benefits.”
I shuddered, half from the way she was rubbing my cock head, half from the realization of what she had just said.
“So, what? You were just fuck buddies?”
“Something like that.”
“How’d that... how’d that work?” I stammered.
“Well, some nights he’d get horny and send me a text, and some nights I’d get horny and send him one.”
“And then what? You’d just go over and fuck him?”
She shook her head as if scandalized. “No.” She paused. “Usually, I’d suck his cock first.”
I was dripping pre-cum now, making her handjob sloppier.
“And then what?” I groaned.
“You mean after I sucked his cock? Or after we fucked?”
“Fucked,” I replied, my mouth completely dry.
“Well then I’d go home, silly. Chucky was never one for making a girl breakfast.”
I stared at her wide-eyed.
“Does that bother you, sweetie? Thinking of me getting booty called? Going to a man’s apartment just for sex? Getting fucked silly, and then leaving without even getting cab fare? Does that bother you?”
“Yes,” I grunted, but at the same moment, my cock exploded, drenching her hand and my boxers in jism.
She pulled her hand out of pants and licked her fingers clean.
“Hmmm, talk about a mixed message.” She shot me an amused grin.
“We... we still need to talk,” I stammered.
“We sure do, honey, but not tonight. I’m pretty sure where that would lead, and I’m still sore from last night. So I think we’re going to have to postpone our exploration of my sordid, tawdry, dirty past. So if you don’t mind, I’m going take a shower, and then go to sleep.”
I was speechless. As much because of her explanation as my own reaction to it.
“Okay,” I muttered lamely as she casually stripped off her clothes and walked confidently into the bathroom.
--------
I spent much of the next day trying to make sense of my emotions. There were many things that I didn’t understand. Terri’s whore zone and friend zone comparison felt, I dunno, just like one of those things women say that sound reasonable, but are just a way to let a man down easy.
I couldn’t avoid comparing her behavior with me with her conduct with Chucky. It wasn’t just how long she’d made me wait; it was also what she’d done with him. That phrase, there are lots of things I’ve only ever done with Chucky gnawed at me, especially since every time I replayed it in my mind, the word lots became more emphasized, more fraught with meaning. It seemed to cover an endless variety of sordid, dirty, tawdry conduct.
The more I thought about it, the more I imagined Terri with Chucky, doing...things... things that I didn’t even dare verbalize to myself. Every crazy, filthy image I’d ever witnessed, and there were a lot after twenty years of viewing porn, I suddenly replayed with my wife and her ex-lover as protagonists.
Worse, I didn’t know what to think of it. My emotions were whiplashing back and forth. I was shocked, angry, disappointed to find out she’d been such a dirty slut, even though I didn’t even know what she’d actually done—and I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know. All I had was my fevered imagination.
And then sometimes, I was just jealous that she wasn’t a dirty slut with me. I wanted her to be that girl from the party, blowing me in a car, stripping naked and playing with herself, urging me to fuck her hard.
What the hell did I want? Did I want her to be a good girl? Or a bad girl but just with me? Or, Jesus, and this was the darkest thing, did I actually like the idea of her having a dark, dirty past. The reality was, I wasn’t getting hard thinking of fucking her. I was getting hard imagining her fucking him.
CHAPTER 3:
IMPLICATIONS
“We need to talk,” I said as we settled in bed.
She laughed. “Oh God, you’re insatiable.”
“You’re having fun with this,” I replied a little irritably.
“Well, you have to admit, it is funny. I mean, you’re like Pavlov’s dog, except that instead of salivating at the ringing of a bell, you’re popping wood at the sound of the name Chucky.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is true.”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to argue the point, especially since deep inside I knew she was right.
“Okay, what are we talking about tonight?” There was that amused smirk again.
I sighed. This wasn’t going like I’d hoped. I’d been on an emotional roller coaster for the last two days. I wanted her to take it more seriously. I wanted her to apologize—or at least act a little embarrassed. But no, she just thought it was funny.
“Damn it, Terri, take this serious. I’m upset.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be so melodramatic. You’re not upset. You’re horny, and you’re freaked out about it because you’re not sure what you’re turned on about.”
“Oh, is that it?”
She nodded.
“Well, sorry to break it to you, but that’s not it. I’m genuinely upset. And you’re not helping.”
“Okay, okay.” She composed her face into a passable approximation of sympathy, but still with that little curl of her lips. “Why are you upset?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m upset because...because of the things you did with Chucky.”
“What things?”
“I...I...I don’t even know,” I stammered. “But you said you did lots of things only with him. So maybe we should start with that. What did you do with him?”
“Nuh uh, I’m not going to play that game. I’m not going to list sex acts for you to sit there in judgment.”
“Oh, so now you don’t want to talk.”
“I didn’t say that,” she replied. “But I’m not going to sit here and give you a laundry list. I mean, the specific did I or didn’t I isn’t the point anyway, is it?”
“No, the point is that you did things with him that you won’t do with me.”
“Won’t?” she asked curiously. “What have I ever refused?”
“I...well...” She was right. She’d never actually shot down anything. She always game in her own way. “That’s not the point.”
She smiled. “Of course it is. It takes two to tango.”
“What does that mean?” I grunted, feeling oddly defensive.
She sighed. “Look, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, because it really isn’t a criticism, I swear. But, well, you’re not the whips and chains kind of guy, are you?”
“Oh, and you are?” I snapped, immediately regretting it. She was obviously much more sexually adventurous than I was. Kindly, she didn’t call me on it.
“No, I’m not,” she replied. “And that’s why we work well together.”
“Well, what about the things you did with Chucky?” A series of depraved acts flashed t
hrough my mind.
“Look, half the fun of sex comes from giving pleasure, yes?”
I nodded a bit skeptically.
She continued. “It feels good, of course, but part of what makes it great is seeing your partner enjoying himself.”
I groaned. She seemed to be describing herself as a complete slut, a woman who would do anything she was asked.
“So what, you never say no? Whatever a guy wants, a guy gets?”
Anger flashed in her eyes.
“Listen mister, I’m a skinny blond girl with big tits. I’ve been attracting creeps since I was 13. But here I am, 20 years later, and I can count my sexual partners on the fingers of one hand... well, two hands, but with fingers left over. So don’t make it seem like I’m some roundheel who never said no.”
“But you didn’t say no to Chucky.”
Her smirk returned.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Why? What makes him so special? Did he have a huge cock or something?” I blurted out, immediately wishing I could claw it back.
She giggled. “Oh God, men are crazy. I swear you boys are bigger size queens than any woman I’ve ever met.”
“Well then, what?”
She paused. “I’m not sure, to tell you the truth,” she replied thoughtfully. “He was handsome and funny and confident and older. And I guess it was the right time in my life. I was out of college, on my own. I was trying to find myself. And most of all, I think he seemed safe somehow. The kind of guy who wanted sex in a bar bathroom, but didn’t seem likely to throw your body in a ditch afterwards.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah, I guess. Would you rather I replied that it was because he was hung like a horse?”
She lunged for me suddenly, her hand rubbing my crotch. I was rock hard. She smiled.
“Was he?” I choked out.
She rubbed my erection up and down. “And what if he was? Would it turn you on to know he was huge?”
“Was he?” I asked again.
