Married on Mondays

by HoneyB

  “Turn over,” she said, rolling him onto his back.

  Pouring kama sutra oil in her small hands, quickly she rubbed her palms, then gripped his dick, and began stroking him hard and fast. Up and down, she massaged her husband. Ten minutes later, right before Acer’s muscles contracted to ejaculate, she tugged his balls away from his body. Bringing her husband to orgasm without allowing him to ejaculate gave him lots of energy throughout the day and stamina for her pleasure throughout the night.

  “You go shower again. Get ready for work. You’ve got my pussy hot. Your queen is going to sex you crazy when you get home,” DéJà told him. She had to be careful not to refer to herself as Mistress DéJà when with her husband.

  Unlike with Foxy and Victoria’s marriages, DéJà’s trust and love for Acer never wavered. No person could ever replace her husband. Not even for a minute.

  CHAPTER 12

  Victoria

  For every relationship demolished

  A new one blossomed

  For every child forgotten

  One was conceived

  For every triumph

  There were obstacles

  For every bleeding heart

  There were unforeseen thumps of joy

  Was love at first sight real or a myth?

  Victoria never imagined she’d fall deeply in love with a woman. She was born straight, not a lesbian. She loved dating men. Came close to marrying several men. Was curious about being intimate with women. Had sex with a few women while she was in college and she enjoyed it. Did that make her bisexual? Trysexual? A freak? The one thing Victoria knew was that she was a woman capable of making independent decisions about her life, her body, her sexuality, and her choice of mate.

  Her cell phone buzzed, startling her. Victoria slid out of Naomi’s arms, picked up her BlackBerry, then quickly silenced the buzzer. Wednesday, 4:00 a.m. It was time for her to get up, but a phone call from Rain was not supposed to be her alarm. She looked over at her wife. Naomi was sound asleep. She accepted the call before it went to voicemail, tiptoed to the guest bedroom, then sternly answered, “What?”

  “I want to see you, Victoria, that’s what. Come over,” he said.

  His demands to see her were getting out of control. To Rain it was like she’d never married Naomi. His relentless behavior made Victoria wish she’d never met him at Crème City Hall. She’d gone to city hall to drop off documents for her business, say hello to her councilperson, and meet with the mayor. As she entered the mayor’s office, Rain was exiting. When her meeting was over, the mayor’s assistant handed her Rain’s card. Victoria immediately realized the benefits of befriending the chief of police.

  “I can’t. I already see you twice a week in the evening. I’m not leaving my house at four in the morning to see you.”

  She hesitated. There were a few reasons she’d decided not to marry him. Maybe her reasons were actually excuses. Rain admired her more than he loved her. She could’ve learned to love him. He shared how all his childhood he’d dreamt of being chief of police. He’d fought his way through high school. Sometimes he won. Sometimes he lost. But he always had to fight. Rain’s biggest battle was to prove to his parents he could do something right. He graduated from high school and put himself through college.

  “Just this one time. I need you, Victoria.”

  She became silent.

  “Please. I’m so weak for you, Victoria. Don’t make me beg. I promise I won’t ask to see you in the morning again.”

  Victoria felt sorry for Rain. He was a man with so much power, feeling helpless over their breakup. She wasn’t to blame, but she did have compassion for him. To have parents that didn’t love him as a child must’ve made him lonely. Lonely people needed someone to love and someone to love them back.

  “Fine. Just this once.” Victoria ended the call.

  She tiptoed into the walk-in closet, put on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top and slipped on her flip-flops. Quietly stepping out of the closet, Victoria eased toward the bedroom door.

  “Sweetcakes, where’re you going this early?”

  Victoria’s heart raced. She hated lying to anyone, especially Naomi. Holding her BlackBerry in her hand, Victoria said, “Didn’t mean to wake you. DéJà is running late, so I’m going to the shop to meet the delivery person. If I don’t make it back before you leave, I’ll call you later.”

  “Okay, sweetcakes. Be careful.”

  “I will,” Victoria said.

  She drove east on Shoreline Drive toward Rain’s house. Bypassing Foxy’s home, she noticed the lights were on. Victoria traveled twenty minutes in the opposite direction from the shop. Parking in his driveway, she turned off her engine, sat in her car. She couldn’t lie. She still enjoyed the touch of his hands, the feel and scent of a man. His balls slapping against her pussy intensified her orgasms. Why couldn’t she have a husband and a wife?

  Rain opened his door, motioned for her to come in.

  Victoria went inside. “Why are you calling me this early?” she asked.

  “I woke up with the taste of your pussy in my mouth. Wanted to see you. We need to talk about your situation. Have a seat,” he said, sitting beside her on the sofa. “I thought this marrying a woman thing was something you had to get out of your system. If you love her so much, why do you keep having sex with me?”

  “You’re my client.”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit. I’m not your client. I don’t pay to make love to you, Victoria. You keep trying to rationalize our relationship, but you can’t deny our love for one another. I’ve thought long and hard about this, and I have a solution.”

  He’d come up with a solution for her situation or his?

  Rain said, “Leave her. I’ll pay for the annulment. Marry me. Naomi can find someone else. I can’t.”

  Victoria shook her head. “You’re funny. You know that? You know I’m not taking this seriously, right? I love my wife. I’m not leaving her for you. I’d never leave Naomi for you. What ‘cop gone wild’ dream did you have last night?”

  Rain rubbed the back of his neck. Stretched his head side to side. Folded his arms. Bit his fingernail while staring at her. “You think I’m a joke?”

  “I apologize. No, I don’t think you’re a joke.”

  Rain slid his hand inside her sweats, stuck his finger inside her pussy, stared at her while sucking her juices. “You love me too, don’t you?”

  “But I’m not in love with you. I’ve never been in love with you.” She had to tell him the truth. Once Rain had gotten an idea in his head it was hard, if not impossible, to get it out.

  “You’re a liar, Victoria. You are in love with me.” He parted her lips with his tongue. Kissed her as though if she could taste the sweetness of her pussy, she’d understand why he desperately wanted to change her mind. Make her admit she still loved him.

  Her pussy quivered. She sucked his tongue deep into her mouth, wishing he’d shut up and fuck her so she could get back home to her wife. Victoria pushed him away, went to his bedroom, removed her clothes, threw them on the floor beside his bed like she’d done countless times during their relationship. She lay on his bed, faced down, turning her head to watch him.

  Rain removed his clothes, threw them on top of hers, opened his nightstand drawer, got a condom and lube. He put a few drops of warming gel inside his condom, generously lubricated her ass.

  Doggie-style was her favorite position. Rain put his dick head inside her ass. He swerved his pelvis with the motion of a snake gliding through a garden. Side to side his partially erect dick slithered inside her rectum until he made his way beyond the S-curve. She felt the blood flow to his dick extending his hard-on deeper inside her. He pushed her body flat against the bed, lay his body atop hers, French-kissed the nape of her neck while fucking her.

  She teased her shaft on the cotton sheet tucked between her thighs. “Stay right there, baby. Don’t move,” she told him, rotating her hips to the right, making his dick hit her spot
on the left. Burying her face in the pillow, she screamed, “Oh, my God, Rain, I’m cumming!”

  Each time he pushed a little deeper, she came a lot harder. He pulled out. Removed the semen-filled condom, dropped it inside the fast-food paper cup on his nightstand, then lay beside her. Holding his dick, he said, “This here is the real thing, baby. A woman can’t give you this. I know exactly how to hit your spots and make you cum hard in five minutes. Naomi can’t fuck you like I can.”

  Getting out of his bed, Victoria said, “You might know how to fuck me, but you don’t know how to love me. And you can’t make love to me better than Naomi.”

  Rain frowned. “How you expect me to make love to you if I have to keep fucking you in the ass?”

  She threw up her hands, went to the bathroom, turned on the shower, stuck her head out the door, then yelled, “So this is why you really called me? You’re still dreaming about being my first?”

  Rain entered the bathroom. “What are you saving yourself for? Give me your virginity, Victoria, so I can prove to you that I can make love to you. I’m tired of being considerate of your wants. Your asshole is only one hole away from your pussy. We can do this your way. Or my way. But I’m not going to keep politely asking for what’s rightfully mine.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Foxy

  Wednesday, three o’clock, Foxy locked the door at Crème. Today the standard number of customers had come in. Fifty people had walked in and ordered pastries and beverages for office meetings, dessert, or after-school treats for their kids. Three clients had prepaid for adult fantasy services.

  DéJà removed the cash drawer from the register. Foxy followed her into the office. Victoria was already seated at her desk. She’d been unusually quiet all day. DéJà too. DéJà’s quietness generally meant she was up to something. Victoria’s silence usually meant she had a lot on her mind. Foxy appreciated that neither of her sisters were in her personal business today.

  Victoria counted their earnings. Foxy double-checked the deposit, then handed the cash and credit card receipts to DéJà who placed them in her tote. Avoiding starting a roundtable debate, Foxy picked up her purse and waited for her sisters at the front door.

  They got in three separate cars, drove a short distance to Crème Fantasyland, a hidden paradise on the outskirts of the city. Their exclusive gated community was less than a quarter mile along West Shoreline Drive. The first entry gate opened to a long private road that was bordered on each side by maple trees. The branches created a canopy that overlapped high above the paved street. The end of the road forked into three long driveways that led to second gates.

  To preserve privacy, each of their clients was given a singleuse access code to their destination. Once on the property, they were instructed to follow the road leading to their designated house and to park inside the garage.

  The first driveway led to DéJà’s slave chamber, the second to Victoria’s cozy haven, and the third to Foxy’s dreamland. They’d invested money, time, and a lot of thought into designing their individual homes for their clients.

  Foxy observed her client on the monitor. Senator Wade Pendleton lowered his tinted window, entered his code, then drove to her chocolate-tinted house with mocha trim. The pitched roof cascaded over double-paned windows on the upper level. The lower level had two-way mirrors. Foxy and her client could see out, but no one could see in. The murals of a forest, a waterfall, and Lovers’ Lake coupled with seeing the trees outside her windows gave her clients an outdoor feeling while they were indoors with her.

  Senator Pendleton was a once-a-month regular who billed the government for reimbursement under miscellaneous expenses for his fantasy. His having sex with her kept him happy and his being happy made him a better senator. As long as he paid her in cash, it wasn’t Foxy’s concern where the money came from. She was not the moral monitor of her clients’ consciences. If she were, she’d have no clients.

  Men came to her for various reasons. Some to fuck the way they couldn’t fuck their woman or wife, others wanted her to strap on and fuck them in the ass. Then there were the men who wanted an experienced woman, and women who’d discreetly wanted the girl-on-girl experience. Some couples, both married and not, wanted a ménage à trois with a neutral person who wouldn’t get emotionally attached. The list of fantasies was endless. Senator Pendleton came to her because he didn’t want anyone other than his wife to know he had huge balls and a dick the size of a sweet pickle.

  He entered the house through the garage, belting out, “These constituents are getting more demanding by the second I tell you. We approve same-sex marriages, now they want us to lower the legal drinking age to eighteen.

  Foxy thought about Dallas’s DUI, wondering why Winton still hadn’t mentioned the charges were dropped. Probably too caught up with Nova.

  “All the hoopla about ‘If an eighteen-year-old can go off to war and die for their country, they should be allowed to drink.’ Just what we need. A bunch of kids with guns drinking and shooting up every damn thing. I blame cowboys for this problem. Yep, the wild, wild West started this mess, Foxy. Ya got Johnnie ready for me?” he asked, tossing back two shots of cognac from her wet bar.

  Johnnie stayed ready. She’d let the senator take his time and decide how he wanted to act out his fantasy this time. “Relax,” Foxy said, loosening his tie. She kissed his neck behind his ear. Trailed kisses to his collarbone.

  “You sure know how to make an old man feel like new money. If I weren’t already married, I’d marry ya. You know that.”

  “Let’s get you out of these clothes and into some warm, soapy, slippery water, so I can bathe you with my breasts,” Foxy said, leading him to the whirlpool. Today was a day she had to take charge or the senator would waste his hour talking.

  “Hot damn! Is Johnnie by the whirlpool?” he asked.

  “He sure is, you hot stud, you. I can’t wait for you to rub your big ole dick all over my naked body.”

  “I’ma do more than that. I’ma spank you with my big ole dick,” he said, strapping on his male penile extension before getting in the whirlpool.

  Thankfully sex was 98 percent mental. The tailored penile extension fit snugly around the senator’s dick. Each time she stroked his extension the warming gel inside the dildo suctioned to his dick, allowing his sweet pickle to grow and stay fully erect until he ejaculated.

  “Sure wish I could take Johnnie home. Come sit on him for me. No, wait. Stand up here, and let me see that pretty pussy first.”

  Foxy placed her feet beside his hips.

  He spread her outer lips. “God damn! She sure is happy to see me,” he said, rubbing her shaft with his finger. “I’ma eat this here pussy like you my twenty-seven-year-old wife.”

  Last year the senator remarried shortly after his wife had passed. He was smart to announce his engagement after his reelection. His marrying a woman half his age came as a shock to the community, but not to Foxy. There were older men who needed younger women in order to feel youthful. Foxy felt older women should marry younger, not older men and reap the same young spirited benefits. Foxy’s youngest client, a wealthy eighteen-year-old, fucked her good the entire sixty minutes. He knew tricks her eighty-year-old client was too old to learn or remember.

  Senator Pendleton picked up the dental dam from the poolside tray, covered her engorged shaft, then buried his face in her pussy. He licked and lapped. Foxy moaned, “Oh, yeah. You’re making my pussy wet.” She had a small orgasm as he continued lapping. A bigger orgasm emerged when he sucked her clit and shaft at the same time.

  “Careful there,” she said. “Don’t swallow the dam.”

  “Whew, that was close,” he said. “I just love this here strawberry dam… hot damn! I’m hard as a hammer.”

  He’d paid for Johnnie and could take his sidekick home whenever he wanted but told her his wife didn’t like toys. “I’m ready to fuck this sweet pussy. Get down here on this big ole dick,” he said.

  Foxy stepped into the
swirling water. He inched to the edge of his seat. She eased the dildo inside her pussy and swayed her hips back and forth, massaging his nuts with her butt cheeks.

  The senator grabbed her titties, held them tight, and sucked her right breast. “These the prettiest titties I’ve ever seen. If I weren’t already married, I’d marry ya,” he said again. “Tell me you love me.”

  Foxy whispered, “I love you.”

  Some men like Senator Pendleton simply needed to hear a woman tell them, “I love you,” even if she didn’t mean it.

  “Aw, hell. I’m cumming already. Cum with me,” he said, holding her tight. “Hold me real close and cum with me.”

  Foxy wrapped her arms around him. Held him tight as she could. “You’re making me cum on this big ole dick. I’m cumming.”

  The senator didn’t care if she came with him. His ego had paid to believe he could still fuck a young woman into an orgasm.

  He let go, leaned back, then said, “Aw, damn. An old man like me couldn’t satisfy you every day. You got too much stamina.”

  Foxy didn’t respond. He didn’t need to hear her confirm or deny his feelings. At times all a man needed a woman to do was listen. It was five o’clock. Their session was over, and it was time for her to prepare dinner and her body for Dallas Washington.

  En route to Dallas’s house, Foxy called Victoria. “Hey, I’m on my way out.”

  Victoria replied, “I hope you’re headed home. Your home.”

  “Good-bye,” Foxy said, ending the call.

  CHAPTER 14

  Winton

  Five o’clock, Wednesday. He arrived. Used his key. Entered her town house he’d paid for. He refused to put his name on the deed as she’d requested. He’d given her cash. There were no traceable cashiers’ and definitely no personal checks issued in her name. He was smarter than his male clients that purchased joint property so they could reserve the right to take back whatever so-called gifts they’d given their mistresses.