Sweet Danger

by Violet Blue

  As Trinh and I watched, Elisa and Trey began to dance, their bodies pressing into each other as they moved to the music, Elisa’s little dress twitching about her thighs. Watching them dance, it would’ve been easy to mistake them for lovers, Trey’s hands gliding onto Elisa’s naked back. But they weren’t lovers. Not yet, anyhow. I watched his hands slowly move around her waist before sliding down onto the swaying curves of her hips, clutching at the smooth fabric of her dress, pulling it taut across her ass. Her buttocks were soft and full, and for just an instant Trey’s hands seem to hold them before moving quickly up her back, letting her dress fall free. For a moment, the bodies surrounding them parted and Elisa’s eyes met mine. In them I could see that she knew I was right, that what I had been telling her all along was true: she was still sexy. She was still desirable. And Trey knew it, too. And there was suddenly an unfamiliar fluttering in my stomach and for a moment I thought it was jealousy.

  “So,” Trinh said abruptly, starting one of her sentences that come out of nowhere and disappear just as fast. I waited as she drained her cosmopolitan before gesturing toward Elisa and Trey with her emptied glass. “What do you think?” I looked back at Elisa, watched her smiling up at Trey, her arms slung around his neck, causing her dress to rise on her hips. Trinh stabbed her cigarette into the glass ashtray on the table, the butt rimmed with her maroon lipstick, and before I realized it, she had slipped silently into Elisa’s vacant seat next to me. “Is he attractive? Do you like him?”

  “All I want is to see her fuck him. Then I can get on with my life.”

  “He’s only twenty-two,” Trinh said, almost whispering, as if trying to keep it a secret. “And he’s hung like a fucking horse.” The pink-haired girl had lit at the table behind us, and Trinh turned to show the girl her empty glass, and I took a good look at Trinh for the first time since I’d arrived. She was Vietnamese, I finally decided, pretty and quite young, even more so than I had originally thought. Her hand was on my leg and I looked down at it and beyond to her crossed legs, long and bronze, naked almost to her waist, her tiny black skirt stretched across her lap, and she tugged at it once to let me know she knew I was looking. Then she said, “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

  I looked at Trinh and for a moment I was tempted to tell her everything. For a moment I wanted to tell her how Elisa and I used to be when we were first married, when we couldn’t get enough of each other, before we became distracted by our careers, our schedules, our money. I wanted to tell her how mortgages, a kid, and fourteen years had all conspired to somehow, inexplicably, turn us into old married people. But only for a moment.

  Before I had to give Trinh an answer the drink girl came back and dropped off Trinh’s cosmopolitan as well as another blue drink for Elisa and two more beers. I looked again for Elisa, and for a moment couldn’t find her, then she and Trey suddenly appeared at the table and sat in the two seats across from Trinh and me. Elisa smiled at me and I could see her chest rising, her skin glistening with sweat. They began their fresh drinks in unison.

  “You two look good together,” Trinh said to them, and then to me, “Didn’t they?” She was right, but I couldn’t answer before she said to Trey, “He likes to watch.”

  “Really?” Trey said, almost laughing.

  “What about you, Trey?” Trinh went on. “You like watching?”

  “I like doing.”

  “Sounds like you two are perfect for each other,” Trinh laughed, pointing at me with her glass and at Trey with her finger. Trey suddenly stood and announced to the table (and anyone else within earshot) that he had to take a piss, then disappeared into the darkness as Elisa watched.

  When he was out of sight, Elisa turned to me and said, simply, “Well?”

  And then Trinh: “What are you afraid of?”

  It was a challenge, not a question. I understood this, but I had an answer nonetheless. More than anything, I was afraid of regret. Regretting doing this. Regretting not doing this. What if Elisa hated herself for doing this? What if she hated me for letting her? What do you do when fantasy and reality lie too far apart? I looked at my wife, looked for the answers, and in her eyes I could see that it was now or never, too close to the latter. I could see that she was ready, for the first and only time, maybe, to let this happen, and I knew that I had only that moment to make my decision.

  “Do you want to or not?” Elisa asked me.

  Of course I wanted to. For as long as I had been married to Elisa this had been my deepest desire, my most pervasive fantasy. But it had always been just that: a fantasy, things said in the heat of the moment, with the understanding that we never really intended to act upon them. Until now. I had no way of knowing what would happen if I said yes—I hadn’t even known Trey before tonight—and somehow that excited me even more.

  Before I could say anything, Elisa saw Trey returning. “Do you love me?” she said quickly.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Of course,” I said.

  “Then trust me, you’ll love this.”

  “1967 Shelby Mustang GT500,” Trinh suddenly began to recite as we approached Raquel. “428-cubic-inch engine, two Holley 600 cfm four-barrel carburetors. 355 horsepower.” Trinh ran her fingers down Raquel’s fender and across the chrome Cobra badge. “Only two-thousand-forty-seven ever made.”

  “Two-thousand-forty-eight,” I said.

  As I produced the keys from my front pocket Trinh asked, “May I?” She was smiling, her hand outstretched. Trinh could sense my hesitation and said, “Not a scratch. I promise.”

  Any other night, any other circumstances, I wouldn’t have even considered it, and I think Elisa was as surprised as I was when I handed over the keys and turned to quietly ask her, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” She nodded, but it wasn’t enough for me. “You don’t have to do this,” I said.

  “Do you want me to?” Elisa said.

  “I…yes.”

  “Then I have to,” Elisa said, and then, as Trinh watched and waited, kissed me. It was a perfunctory, almost calculated kiss. Almost like the kiss she gave me when we got married, the “you-may-now-kiss-the-bride” kiss. The kind of kiss that was meant more for the people watching than the person receiving it. And I thought, then, of the vows we’d made before giving each other that kiss. Vows to love, cherish, and obey. And how, in some strange way, by letting happen what was surely about to, Elisa was honoring those vows.

  Trinh told Elisa she would be riding in the back and Elisa obediently climbed in, followed immediately by Trey, his distended cock straining conspicuously against the front of his pants as if following Elisa of its own free will. Trinh slid behind the wheel, tugging at her skirt as she sat, and I walked around Raquel to the passenger side, Elisa watching me through the back glass, her eyes bright, childlike with anticipation.

  I got in and Trinh hit the starter, Raquel rumbled to life, and we moved through the maze of one-way downtown streets, starting and stopping at traffic lights until the road opened up. Trinh wound her way through the gears, redlining every one as we got out on the highway, and I realized as I watched her that I had never been in Raquel’s passenger seat before, had never let anyone else drive her. And I started to notice things that I could only see from this point of view: the green glow the gauges cast on the driver’s face; the relative positions of the clutch and accelerator, the gearshift and the wheel; and how Trinh was almost too slight to use all four at the same time.

  Trinh adjusted the rearview mirror until she and I could see Elisa and Trey in the blue shadows of the backseat, intermittent bands of light sweeping across their faces as we passed under streetlights. Trinh lit a cigarette, its red glow dancing across the interior of the car, and she almost sighed as she exhaled the thick smoke. “Do you like sucking cock, Elisa?” she said suddenly as I watched the speedometer creep past eighty.

  “What?” Elisa said, her voice barely loud enough to hear.

  “You heard
me,” Trinh told her. “Simple question, yes or no?”

  “I…” Elisa began tentatively. “Yes.”

  Trinh turned to look at Elisa over her shoulder. “So suck Trey’s cock. Right now.” Elisa looked for me in the mirror, and Trinh said, “It’s okay. He doesn’t mind,” then turning to me she added, “Do you?” Trinh inhaled the last of her cigarette and cracked the window, the wind rushing in cold and loud, and flicked the butt outside before sealing the window again.

  “I don’t mind,” I heard myself say. Trinh lit another cigarette and watched me as I watched Elisa in the mirror. “Drive faster,” I told Trinh, and she did.

  As I watched, Elisa dropped from view and I could see Trey settling into the seat, sliding down a little; draping one arm across the back of the seat, the other over my wife. Trinh smiled, as if relieved, or happy, maybe, that she didn’t have to talk Elisa into it. Over the drone of the engine I could hear the faint clinking sound of Trey’s belt being unbuckled. Then I could hear the wet noise of Elisa’s mouth, and by the look on Trey’s face I knew that Elisa had his cock out and had begun.

  I stared into the mirror, straining to see in the darkness, and I could make out the dark shape of Elisa’s body curling up in the seat next to Trey, her head moving in his lap. “Drive faster,” I said again, glancing over at the speedometer, the needle arcing past one hundred. In the mirror I could see Trey, breathing deeply, sinking further into the seat, relaxing, both arms now slung across the back of the seat. Trey’s eyes met mine, and I stared helplessly at him, unable to turn away; his eyes were white slits, half hidden in the shadows, and I suddenly had the feeling that somehow he had known this would happen, that he knew from the first time he saw my wife that this would be the outcome. I suddenly wanted to hate him for his arrogance, his utter conceit. I hated myself for wanting this, but I did want it.

  “This is…” I whispered, and then paused. I could feel Trinh watching me, waiting for what I was going to say. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Are you complaining?” she said, just loud enough for only me to hear.

  “No,” I said. My cock was so hard it hurt, straining painfully against my pants, and I shifted anxiously in my seat, desperate to free it.

  “Why don’t you just take it out?” Trinh said, well aware. “Go ahead. That’s what you’re here for, right?” Hastily I unfastened my pants and wrenched my aching cock out into the open, immediately wrapping my fist around it and beating it furiously as I listened to my wife’s muffled moans, her mouth full with Trey’s cock. How many nights had I lain awake, planning this, imagining this? Picturing every possible scenario, every situation; loving every imaginary moment. And now the moment I never imagined would happen had arrived. Here. Now. Enraptured, I stared, my fantasy being made reality before my very eyes, and any jealousy I had felt, any uncertainty evaporated, leaving only a consuming urge to see her do this, to see this happen.

  The lights from the city had long since faded behind us, and the highway was deserted except for an occasional tractortrailer. Trinh pushed Raquel past one-ten. The semis blew by, heading into the city, the wind from them buffeting us, crashing against us like thunder, their headlights flashing through the interior of the car for an instant like lighting. I turned around in my seat, abandoning the mirror, all pretense gone now, and watched between the bucket seats as Elisa held Trey’s cock up with both hands to look at it. It was huge, every bit as large as Trinh had promised it would be, standing perfectly erect, jutting from his groin, straining up toward Elisa, and Trey brushed my wife’s hair from her face to make sure I got a good look.

  Elisa gazed up at him as she lapped at his shaft, the weight of Trey’s cock resting across her upturned face. Then, hungrily, she hauled it into her empty mouth, sinking down on it until her wet lips were sealed around its base. I could hear her grunting, almost barking as she plunged her mouth over his cock again and again, one hand cupping his fat pouch of balls, the other clamped around the thick base. I watched Trey’s cock as I stroked my own, his thick, hard shaft sliding in and out of my wife’s wet lips, and I watched Elisa, showing him with her concupiscent gazes and breathless moans how much she loved it. Trey was watching as well, and he was telling Elisa how good she was, how sexy she was, but at that point I don’t think Elisa cared whether he thought she was sexy or not.

  Trey moved his hands to the back of her head, easing her up or down, whatever felt best to him. Over and over again Elisa worked her mouth around Trey’s cock, up and down, back and forth, until she realized that Trey was driving at his own rhythm, and all she need do was hold her head still as his cock pumped through her wet lips. Trey held Elisa’s head firmly in his hands and pushed his cock in and out of her mouth like a piston, Elisa’s lips stretching around the raised ridges of his shaft.

  “Suck it,” Trey demanded. “Suck that cock, you little whore.” His taunts only seemed to encourage Elisa, his words barely audible over her moans. Trey moved faster, and Elisa slipped a hand under her dress and began to touch herself as Trey told her again and again how good she was at sucking cock. Her awareness of his pleasure only seemed to intensify her own excitement, and she groaned loudly as he slid his cock into her mouth again and again, almost gagging her every time. I could see her throat contracting, her eyes watering each time he pushed the entire length of his cock into her mouth, and I was certain, given the length of shaft that disappeared between her lips, that his cock was in her throat.

  I could feel Trinh staring at me from the driver’s seat, gauging my reaction to what was happening. Trey was groaning, his voice desperate as he began to beg Elisa to slow down. I could easily hear Elisa’s breathing, heavy and labored as Trey’s urgings became more insistent, his moans louder and in rhythm with Elisa’s. Suddenly Trey gasped, his fingers tangling into Elisa’s hair, his face clenched in anticipation. I saw his chest heave several times as he humped up against Elisa’s mouth until finally his body started to convulse. A burst of grunts escaped him, and I knew he was coming in my wife’s mouth. He growled out a string of expletives, calling my wife his “little cocksucker,” his “filthy whore,” and below him Elisa had sealed her lips tightly around his cock, sucking and swallowing until she almost burst from lack of breath.

  Their noises promptly lapsed into silence, with the exception of Trey’s ragged panting, and Trinh looked at me, smiling. My eyes locked suddenly with Trey’s, and for a moment I looked into them. For what, I didn’t know. Gratitude, maybe, as absurd as that sounded. But instead, I saw only pride. He seemed to feel conquering, victorious even, and I knew that in his mind he had just taken my wife in a way I never could; that it was Elisa, not him, who had just been pleasured, that he had been gracious enough to allow her to suck his cock; that she had been rewarded with his orgasm.

  Elisa looked up at Trey like a child wanting praise, and I watched as she opened her mouth and showed him the shimmering pool of semen on her cupped tongue before she swallowed it.

  “You’re a lucky man,” Trey told me for the second time that night, but this time Elisa seemed to flush with pride at Trey’s words. She sat up, tucking her hair behind her ears, and in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle I could see a smile pursing her raw and swollen lips.

  I watched the needle sweep past one-forty.

  Takes All Comers

  AINSLEIGH FOSTER

  With the headset on, Ariel looked like an extra from a bad science-fiction movie—or she would have, if she hadn’t been wearing her favorite negligee. Let’s be honest: my favorite negligee. What Ariel likes much of the time, when it comes right down to it, is what turns me on. In that, she’s very much a people-pleaser. Which is why it pleased her so to be given slut lessons by her husband while she talked a stranger off.

  “You cheat on your husband often?” came the stranger’s gruff voice, crackling into his microphone.

  Ariel looked at me.

  I nodded fervently.

  “Oh,” she said. “All the time.”
I made a “keep going” gesture. “Constantly,” she said. “With all sorts of guys. Sometimes two, three times a day.”

  The guy sounded shocked. “Three times a day!?”

  I made a so-so gesture.

  Ariel got the picture. She started improvising. “Well,” she said, “that’s a good day. I mean, you know, I do have to work and stuff!” I made a gesture so vague I wasn’t even sure myself what it meant. Ariel picked up on it and said, “But…you know, between blow jobs to my boss, the other guys I work with, sometimes I’ll go out to lunch—”

  “Out to lunch!?” the guy choked.

  I waved my hands.

  “Um…yes?” said Ariel, cocking her head at me.

  “With your boss?” asked the guy.

  I nodded, waving my hands to indicate that she should nod along with me.

  It took her several seconds to remember to say, “Uh-huh?”

  There was a long pause, during which I was sure he’d figured it out.

  Then he said: “That’s so hot.”

  I grinned and made a thumbs-up.

  Ariel winked at me.

  “Yeah,” she said. “My boss totally takes me out to lunch. Sometimes I even jerk him off under the table. Right there in the restaurant.”

  The guy was grunting, obviously stroking his cock. I had never fucked guys; I didn’t really know what they sounded like when blowing their loads—and especially not the buildup to it—but I was getting used to it.

  “Right there in the restaurant?” the guy grunted.

  “Right there in the restaurant,” said Ariel, her voice thick with sex. Another thumbs-up from me.