Bluebeard’s Wife

by Selena Kitt

  She moved in behind me, then, putting one arm around my waist. “Like this,” she instructed, moving her hips with mine, ‘round and ‘round. I could feel her thighs, her pelvis making circles against my ass. Her other hand slipped around my waist, and I leaned my head back against her shoulder—she was a good five inches taller than me and wearing much higher heels—looking up into her eyes. They were green and smiling, too.

  “I think we drank too much,” I murmured, enjoying the feel of our dresses slipping together, satin against velvet. Mine was beginning to ride up my thighs, I could feel it, but I didn’t care.

  “Who says?” Kelly whispered, and she leaned in and kissed me, just like that in the middle of the dance floor. It didn’t last long, a few seconds, but it was enough to take my breath away. The song was over then, and I looked at John as I moved away from Kelly and saw him looking at us. I couldn’t read his face, but I flushed, and went back to the table to get more wine.

  “You two were having fun,” Chris remarked, putting his arm around Kelly and squeezing her hip as we sat.

  “Just showing John what he’s missing, leaving our girl all alone,” Kelly remarked, pouring me another glass of wine and handing it to me. I drank it all, thirsty and not wanting to talk.

  We ended up closing the place down, John and I. Kelly and Chris headed home about midnight, and I sat and finished another bottle of wine while I watched John move among the tables, talking and laughing. He helped me on with my coat when it was time to go, and held my elbow as we walked to the car.

  “Are you drunk?” he asked me as he got into driver’s side.

  I looked over at him in the dimness. “Are you mad?”

  “Am I mad that you’re drunk? Or am I mad that you were out dirty dancing with your girlfriend at my company Christmas party?” John started the car and put it in reverse.

  “Um... that, or... whatever,” I said, struggling with my seat belt. I couldn’t seem to find the slot to put it into. John accelerated hard and I was propelled back against the seat. I was still trying to get my seat belt fastened when John hit the brakes at a stop sign and I jolted forward, reaching out my hand to the dashboard to catch myself, but my reflexes were slow, and I missed.

  “What were you thinking?” John asked with a sigh, reaching over and doing my seat belt up for me.

  I felt tears sting my eyes and looked out the passenger window so he wouldn’t see them. “I don’t know,” I whispered. “I guess maybe that you might think I was sexy.”

  We didn’t talk again until John backed the car into the garage. He always backed in, so he could pull out in a hurry in the morning. Then he turned to me in the dark of the car, his voice low. “Tara, do you know what I wanted to do to you when you came downstairs in that dress?”

  I shook my head, turning a little toward him.

  John reached a hand out and fingered the soft, satin hem that was riding high on my thighs. “I wanted to tear it off you.”

  “You did?” I asked, my eyes wide. He was looking down at where my dress ended.

  “I wanted to tear it off you and take you, right there, up against the wall in the hallway.” His voice was hoarse, and I swallowed hard.

  “You did?” I squeaked.

  “Seeing you dancing out there with Kelly—you don’t know how sexy you are, do you?” he asked, leaning over to me, his hand running up from my knee to my thigh. His breath was warm on my face, and I could smell the 7&7’s he’d been drinking all night. My own head was still swimming with wine.

  “You two rubbing up against each other, seeing your red little dress riding up and up,” he whispered, his hand pushing my dress up further as he sought higher ground on my leg. “You looked just like you do when you come, with your eyes half closed and your mouth open and your legs quivering.”

  I moaned, tilting my face up to him, and then he was kissing me, his tongue forcing its way past my teeth, down my throat, as he pressed me into the door. “I wanted to fuck you right there on the dance floor,” he growled against my neck, biting and sucking at my flesh. “I wanted to fuck you both.”

  I gasped, his hands groping me in the dark, everywhere at once. My dress was pushed up to my waist now, his fingers rubbing fast and hard between my legs. We kissed, our mouths meshing together as he leaned over the gearshift to get to me. When he pulled my panties aside and plunged his fingers into me, I hissed, putting one foot up onto the dashboard to give him better access.

  He was trying to climb over onto me but there wasn’t enough room—not in his little Roadster. When I whispered that fact to him, he grunted, pulling his hand away from me and moving to open his door. A moment later, he was opening mine, and I was still sitting there with my panties askew, my heels off, and my dress shoved up to my waist, struggling with the seatbelt.

  He leaned over me and popped the button, pulling me out of the car and crushing me to him, his tongue digging deep into my mouth. I clung to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, feeling his hands roaming over my ass, squeezing and lifting me, pressing my crotch to his. I could feel how hard he was through his trousers.

  Then he was turning me around, pressing me over the hood of the car, shoving my dress up higher on my waist. His hands moved over my ass, my thighs, and I heard his zipper and the felt his cock pressing against my panties. He shoved those aside, his fingers finding me again, moving in and out of my wetness—and I was wet, soaking wet, my panties moist with my heat.

  He didn’t bother to take them off, he just replaced his fingers with his cock, shoving himself deep inside me with a growl. I moaned, pressing my cheek to the metal, the engine still ticking as he started to fuck me, my hands out in front of me, just letting him take me. I could see the Christmas lights of the neighbor’s house across the street, a blurred red and green glow as he rocked me against the Beemer’s electric blue hood. He hadn’t even shut the garage door.

  “You like that?” he whispered, grinding his pelvis into me, his cock buried so deep it almost hurt. I couldn’t catch my breath to answer, I just whimpered, but I arched my back and pressed against him in response.

  He reached over me, grabbing my arms and twisting them behind my back. I gasped, wriggling and moaning, as he held my wrists with one hand, still fucking me, harder now, driving me against the cold side panel of the car. He slapped my ass with the other hand, making me squirm. The hot sting felt good in the night air.

  I could see my breath, panting out in white streams toward Mr. Klein’s house across the way—and I could see Mr. Klein, walking across his living room. I wondered if he might be able to see us, and the thought was beyond exciting.

  John was grunting with every thrust, his breath ragged. My panties were snug between my legs and every time he shoved into me, he pulled them up tight between my lips and effectively massaged my clit, the friction building up as he fucked me, really rapidly now, all the way into me, working hard.

  “Oh God,” I cried, feeling his hand tighten around my wrists, pulling me back against him and driving deeper, deeper still, into my pussy. “John, make me come!”

  I could still see Mr. Klein, and I think he was at his window, but I didn’t care. I ground myself back against John’s cock, wanting more and more, until I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think. I was dizzy with wanting, feeling the ache between my legs moving toward release.

  John grabbed my hip with his other hand, forcing himself hard up into me, growling and grinding, “Ahhhh God, baby, take my cum!” Feeling the first wave of him, hot and pulsing, coupled with his hips pounding against mine, forced me over, too, and I came hard, my pussy squeezing him, milking him.

  “Ohhh yes, ohhhh!” I moaned, thrashing on the hood of the car, quivering beneath him.

  He pulled out of me, and the cold of the night rushed in, making me shiver. He didn’t let go of my wrists, turning me around to kiss me, his mouth a little softer now, but not much, his tongue still probing deep, his bare thighs pressing me back against the car, my ass resting again
st the cool edge.

  “Now,” he whispered, keeping me pressed against him, his hand still tight around my wrists wrapped behind my back. “Do you believe me, that I think you’re sexy?”

  I smiled, feeling dizzy, wrapping my leg around him, digging my heel into the back of his thigh. “Yes,” I breathed, kissing him and holding on tight.

  —

  The wine made me sleepy, and I barely managed to get my dress and panties off before crawling into bed naked. John said he had some things to check on in the home office in the basement before he came up, and I was beginning to drift when I realized that he might be making a phone call. The thought jolted me awake. After that incredible display in the garage? I thought, doubtful.

  I picked up the receiver and heard his voice. “I want both of you to suck my cock.”

  My eyes widened as I heard two women’s voices purring over the phone lines. I clicked the “mute” button and turned over onto my back to listen.

  “Mmmm, yeah, help me suck this big, hard cock, Suzy.” I was amazed that I could recognize Marie’s voice after hearing it only once, but I could.

  “Ohhh yes, hold it for me, baby, let me lick it,” the other woman, Suzy I assumed, murmured.

  “Yeah,” John whispered, and I could hear him, his breath coming faster. “Suck it, girls. Work that cock.” They were both making slurping noises through the phone.

  “Suzy,” John said. “Are you a real redhead?”

  “Yes,” the woman said. “All over. Want to see?”

  It occurred to me that Kelly was a redhead, and I wondered if there was a connection. My own breath was coming faster, and I couldn’t help reaching down to touch myself, still wet and slick from my hard fucking in the garage.

  “Yeah,” John said. “Spread your pussy, baby. Let Marie lick your cunt.”

  “Ooooo, yeahhh,” Suzy said. “I’m spreading my wet pussy for her. Come on, Marie... put your tongue on my clit.”

  “Ohhh, you taste so good, baby,” Marie murmured. “God, I love licking your pussy.”

  I tried to imagine it, both women together, Suzy the redhead on her back, her legs spread, Marie’s dark head working between her legs. What would it be like, what would it taste like? My nipples were hardening at the thought, and I rubbed my clit a little faster.

  “I’m gonna fuck you, Marie,” John said. “I’m gonna fuck your tight little cunt while you lick her.”

  “Ohhhh baby, yes!” Marie whispered. “I’ll spread it open for you... I’m so wet. I want your cock.”

  “Take it,” John said, grunting, as if he were shoving it inside of her. I remembered how hard he drove into me in the garage and I put my fingers into me, aching to feel him, stiff and throbbing.

  “Yeah, baby, fuck me while I lick her pussy,” Marie purred.

  “Ohhh God, yeah, lick my cunt, honey,” Suzy moaned, and I remembered Kelly’s voice, calling me honey while she fucked herself with her vibrator. “I love your little tongue.”

  “Ohhh fuck,” I heard John whisper.

  “You like watching me lick her, John?” Marie asked. Suzy was moaning, mewling, whimpering, gasping. I was, too, fucking myself with my fingers and strumming my clit.

  “Yeah,” John panted. “I love watching you lick her wet little cunt.”

  “Fuck me harder, John,” Marie begged. “Fuck me good and hard—you know I love it hard.”

  “I know you do,” John growled. “And I’m gonna give it to you good and hard.”

  “Oh, Marie, fuck me with your fingers,” Suzy said. “Yeah, finger my cunt while you eat me.”

  Oh my God, I could hear them, making sloppy wet noises. Were they really together? My pussy swelled at the thought, my clit throbbing under my rubbing fingers.

  “Oooooooo baby I’m gonna come in your mouth,” Suzy moaned, and I heard her coming, moaning and gasping. I shuddered, feeling my own orgasm edging ever nearer.

  “Yeah,” Marie said. “Come all over my face, sweetheart. You taste so good.”

  John groaned, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Oh fuck, Marie, I’m gonna come!”

  “Come here, baby, come all over Suzy’s face,” Marie said, and I heard John grunting as he came, and I came too, my climax shaking the bed beneath me.

  “Oh God,” John whispered, and then chuckled. “Good girls.”

  “His cum tastes so good,” Suzy said, and I could hear her sucking something. “Here, Marie, come taste.”

  “Mmmmm yeah, I wanna lick all that cum off your tits and your face,” Marie said.

  John groaned again. “God, you two are going to kill me.”

  They both laughed, soft and low and sexy. I clicked the phone off, replacing the receiver, and tried to go back to sleep. John came to bed, and I soon heard his deep, even breathing. I finally slept, but I found myself waking several times in the night, dreaming of dancing with Kelly.

  Chapter Five

  I woke up with the bed empty and knew John was downstairs. I rolled over and looked at my clock. It was nearly three in the morning. I debated whether or not I wanted to pick up the phone. I knew I would hear his voice if I did.

  After that night in the garage, I was sure things would break wide open—that he would start bringing things into our sex life that he seemed to be living out in his fantasies over the phone. I felt such a shift in us that night, but in the light of morning, over coffee and orange juice and eggs, both of us still a little hung-over, it seemed like too much to contemplate talking about.

  Somehow, it had faded, almost as if it hadn’t happened. We were back to our regular Friday night specials, and a few encounters mid-week, depending on our schedules and energy levels. And the phone calls continued. I had thought that maybe they would lessen, that he would begin to turn to me more, if I started making his fantasies come true. It seemed to me that he was making even more calls than ever. I didn’t understand it.

  Maybe I just hadn’t found the right fantasy yet? The one that really did it for him? I debated, but my curiosity won out and I reached for the receiver, quickly hitting the “mute” button.

  Yes, John’s voice, low and clear: “...tying your hands above your head, one to each bedpost... Pulling the scarves tight against your flesh.”

  “Oh John!” I heard her say. “I’m trembling all over.”

  “Is it too tight?” he asked. My mind was racing. He was tying her up in this fantasy?

  “No. I can’t get out even if I struggle a little, but it’s not uncomfortable,” she said.

  “How do you answer me?” he asked in a voice I was unfamiliar with, strong and demanding. It reminded me of that night in the garage and the memory took my breath away.

  “Yes, sir,” she responded.

  “Better,” he said. “Now, spread your legs.”

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered. “Like this? Wide open?”

  “Yes, like that,” he said. “Are you wet?”

  She moaned. “Oh, John, yes... I’m so wet.”

  “Tell me what you want.”

  “Oh, God! I want your hard cock,” she cried.

  “What did you forget?” he asked, his voice controlled, tight.

  “Oh... sir. Yes, yes... I want your hard cock, sir.”

  “You’re a naughty girl,” he said. “You can’t seem to remember the simplest things.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s just that I’m so wet... I want you so much...”

  “Marie?” he asked.

  “Yes?”

  “You forgot again.”

  She moaned, “Ohhh God, I’m sorry.”

  “Lift your legs up,” he said. “Straight up in the air.”

  “Like this?”

  “Yes. Maybe this will make you remember,” he said.

  “What are you going to do?” she whimpered. “Are you going to spank me?”

  “You deserve to be spanked,” he told her. “I should use a crop, but I’m going to use my hand.”

  “Oh, John,” she murmured. “I
’m so sorry, I promise I’ll remember.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Sir! I said sir!” Marie cried. “Please don’t spank me.”

  “Do it, Marie,” I heard John’s voice, now, his real voice, not the deep, low voice of the other man he was being with her. “Spank your little ass.”

  And I heard her, just like before, the sound of flesh on flesh, her little squeals and cries.

  “Are you going to remember?” John demanded. She continued to spank herself. I tried to imagine him doing that to her—her legs up in the air, his hand coming down on her ass again and again, making her cheeks red and swollen. I tried to imagine him doing that to me, and my cheeks burned.

  “Yes, yes, I will, I will!” she cried.

  “What did you say?” he asked again.

  “Sir! I swear, I’ll remember, sir,” she pleaded, whimpering.

  “Enough,” he said, and she stopped, continuing to whimper and mew. “I think you liked that, Marie. Your pussy is even wetter now, isn’t it?”

  I knew mine was! I had held my breath through the whole exchange, but now my hand crept down under the covers, lifting my t-shirt to find my pussy swollen and wet in response to their scenario.

  “Yes,” she murmured. “Yes, sir, it’s soaking wet for you.”

  “Good girl,” he said. “Now, I’m going to fuck that wet pussy.”

  I groaned, sliding my fingers into my pussy, imagining John’s hard cock. I knew he was pumping it, and the fact that it was just two stories away from me was both exciting and frustrating all at once. I reached into my drawer and grabbed my not-so-new-anymore toy, the vibrator with the little hummingbird that rested right against my clit when I shoved it all the way into me.

  That’s what I did, sliding it all the way into my pussy on the first go—I was that wet, listening to them.

  “Oh yes, fuck me!” Marie cried. “I want your cock inside me, sir.”

  “Spread your legs wider,” he growled. “I’m going to give you just want you deserve.”

  Oh my God. My heart was beating so fast. I turned the vibrator on, moaning as it buzzed against my clit.