Annual Leave

by Ben Boswell

  She knew nothing had really changed, but suddenly she felt as if she were surrounded by a field of sexual energy. It was a little scary, and also oddly thrilling.

  ***

  She caught Jeff staring at her as she pranced around the bedroom in her bra and panties. He’d sat down on the edge of the bed and had begun to take off his shirt, but he’d stopped half-way and was now just watching her. The kids were finally down, and they were getting ready for bed, but Heather was taking her time, enjoying the effect she was having on her husband.

  “What are you looking at?” she fished.

  He chucked. “Damn, you’re sexy.”

  She giggled and wiggled her ass at him.

  “Yeah?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  She climbed into his lap, straddling him. She could feel his prick immediately stiffen in his pants. And she knew that she was, as she’d been almost all day, wet.

  “Did you miss me?”

  “Uh huh.”

  He seemed to be at a loss for words.

  “I missed you too.”

  “What about him?”

  Her heart skipped until she remembered her aborted confession of last night.

  “What did you expect me to do? I was all alone, so far from home.”

  “Of course. So you had no choice but to seduce a hot island guy.”

  Heather knew it was wrong to play this game. Disrespectful, and would make the truth that much more devastating when if it came out. Unless….

  “Does the thought of me with another man turn you on?”

  He blushed but quickly recovered. “No. Not really.”

  Not really. That was, interesting.

  “Not at all,” he clarified.

  Heather was disappointed, although she hadn’t really expected anything different, and even though she didn’t completely believe him. Or maybe she didn’t want to believe him. In any case, she could feel his body tense a little, and she decided to switch direction.

  “Do you ever have fantasies about me?”

  He hesitated for a second. Then, “No. Not really.”

  She waited for another clarification, but none came.

  “It’s okay, tell me.”

  “Heather –“

  “I won’t get mad… whatever it is.”

  He still hesitated. She rolled her hips slowly, grinding into him.

  “Maybe I can make it come true,” she tempted.

  Another pause. Then, softly, slowly, “I… I sometimes think of you with another woman.”

  Heather giggled. “Oh really? I would never have guessed.”

  “What? The reason it’s a cliché is that it’s a common fantasy.”

  “Okay, okay, easy tiger. So tell me about this fantasy.”

  “I… I don’t know. I mean, I just think it would be hot to see you with another girl.”

  “Well, what do you imagine us doing?”

  “You know. I mean… the usual.”

  She leaned in and kissed Jeff’s lips. He shivered slightly.

  “Would you want me to kiss her?”

  “Yes.”

  “What else?”

  He couldn’t seem to force the words out.

  “Would we be naked?” Heather asked.

  He nodded.

  She reached back and unsnapped her bra, sliding it off.

  “Like this?”

  “Yeah.” He stared at her chest and then palmed her small breasts. “Oh, Heather, your nipples are so hard.” He looked up into her eyes. “This turns you on?”

  “It does if it turns you on.” She ground against his erection. “And it seems to. So, do you have another girl in mind?”

  A half beat of hesitation. “No.”

  Unbidden, Heather thought of Trina. Her long, shiny hair. Her mischievous, feline eyes. Her long legs and tight ass encased in yoga pants. If Damon was right that men look at her and fantasized about having her, then surely Jeff had the same thoughts, same fantasies about Trina.

  “Trina?”

  She felt his cock twitch. His cheeks flushed. He broke eye contact.

  “No…. Don’t be silly.”

  “Why not? Don’t you think she’s pretty?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know. Heather?” He concluded plaintively.

  She leaned in and kissed his neck, then breathed in his ear. “I think she’s pretty.”

  Jeff looked a little like a deer in the headlights.

  “She invited me over for a drink tomorrow afternoon at nap time. The kids are sound sleepers. No one to bother the two of us. Even if we got a little crazy.”

  He was still too shocked to take the initiative, so Heather leaned back and pulled his face to her chest. He eagerly sucked her hard, sensitive nubs into his mouth. One at a time, switching back and forth.

  “Oh God, Trina, that feels so good,” Heather cooed.

  Jeff let out a sound that was somewhere between a mewl and a moan. He reached around and cupped his wife’s ass even as he continued to lick and suck on her dark red, engorged nipples. Heather had a sudden, desperate urge to tear off his pants and impale herself on her husband’s hard prick. But that would end the game, and she wasn’t ready for that yet.

  Instead, she pushed him away and stood up. He looked disappointed, confused, but his frown disappeared as she edged her panties off her hips and let them fall to the floor. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She reached down and massaged her shaved snatch, gasping at how wet and sensitive she was.

  “Do you think it would be hot to see Trina lick my pussy?”

  Jeff nodded dumbly for a moment before taking the hint. Then he suddenly reached out and pulled her close as he dropped to his knees burying his face in her exposed sex. She cried out in passion. It was almost too much. His tongue probing her sensitive folds, his hands squeezing her ass.

  “You’re so wet,” he mumbled between licks. “Are you really thinking about Trina?”

  “Yes,” she growled.

  She was thinking about Trina, but mostly about how funny Trina would find the situation. Her excitement was mostly a consequence of her daylong, running fantasy about Damon. But Jeff didn’t need to know that. Still, it left her wanting more than just his tongue.

  “Would you want to join in?”

  From his knees, he looked at her quizzically.

  “If you walked in on me and Trina, would you want to join in?”

  He seemed to sense a trap. “I’d just watch.”

  “Really? Trina is a nasty, little slut. I bet she’d be up for just about anything.”

  “Oh God, Heather….”

  “Trina.”

  He went wide-eyed.

  “How do you want me?” Heather asked, dropping her voice into something approximating Trina’s raspy drawl. “Well?”

  “On…. On your hands and knees.”

  Heather smiled. “Take off your clothes,” she suggested. She jumped up onto the bed and circled the mattress before presenting her ass to her husband. She looked back over her shoulder. “Do you do it like this with Heather?”

  “No….. I… I didn’t think she’d like it.”

  Heather reached between her legs and ran a finger along her slit, feeling her pussy cleave open.

  “Come on, don’t keep me waiting.”

  His shirt was already off, and now he hurriedly removed his pants. His erection got tangled in his boxers, and he nearly stumbled stepping out of his pants, but Heather kept a straight face. She looked away, the better to maintain the illusion, and wiggled her butt at him.

  She felt the bed sag as he climbed onto the mattress and then his hands, gripping her ass firmly. There was a sudden urgency to his movements, and with her eyes closed, fantasy and reality blurred. Jeff and Heather. Heather and Trina. Trina and Jeff. Heather and Damon.

  He thrust in hard and Heather gasped. He hesitated, but she rolled her ass backward against him. He responded to the encouragement and thrust again. A week ago, Heather might not have like it. Being f
uck hard, from behind, would have been anxiety-provoking, the aggressiveness of it threatening and disrespectful. But being with Damon had changed her perspective, or maybe just opened her eyes to the fun of just living in the moment.

  Another hard thrust. Heather gasped at it. It felt good. Just a matter of letting go a little to enjoy it. A change of outlook. It was not something Jeff was doing to her. It was what she’d done to him, excited him to the point where he couldn’t quite control himself.

  “That’s it baby,” Heather added, still in Trina’s voice, “fuck me like you don’t fuck that little priss Heather.

  “Oh fuck,” he groaned as he thrust in again.

  Jeff squeezed her ass painfully. Heather squealed and immediately felt him tense up behind her. And then she was with Damon, and he was taking her hard, filling her with his come. A searing thought. Blinding. She threw her head back, relishing her climax, conscious of her the way her spasming pussy milked the cock still inside her.

  “Oh Jesus, Heather. Oh Jesus. What… what…?”

  Jeff had collapsed on the bed beside her, and Heather was now draped over him. Their naked limbs entangled. His come dripping from her pussy. Both of them surprisingly sweaty. Heather pulled the comforter over them.

  “I can’t believe you want to fuck my best friend,” she teased.

  “I don’t!”

  Heather laughed. “Yeah, you do. And that’s okay.”

  “Heather, you’re, like, freaking me out.”

  A splash of cold water. There was still that gap. Fantasy and reality. He was terrified of saying the wrong thing, She wanted to liberate him. But she couldn’t because the only way to do so would to admit her crimes. She could free him, but only at the cost of devastating him. And she couldn’t do that. Or… could she?

  “I’m just kidding,” she replied. “That was fun.”

  He didn’t answer. She could sense, though, that he was working something out in his mind. Processing a new situation. Trying to understand it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “So Duckie, what are you going to do?”

  Heather took a deep swig of her wine. She looked at her friend. Trina had an unforced sexuality. Fucking bitch. No wonder Bryce had been more into her. Even at thirteen years old, Trina has that crazy, sexy, confidence about her.

  “Do you remember Bryce?”

  Trina looked at Heather quizzically.

  “Bryce Banner. Middle School.”

  Trina put her hand over her mouth and giggled. “Oh my God! I haven’t thought of him in years! He was my first kiss.”

  “Just kiss?”

  “God, Heather, yeah. Jesus, I was what, thirteen, fourteen?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What kind of a girl do you think I was?”

  Heather shrugged.

  “No, no, I was a perfectly good little miss. Or, maybe, fuck, I was just scared. I don’t know.” She paused. “What makes you think I wasn’t?”

  “I don’t know. You, Lorelei, Dani… you were all such… hot shit.”

  Trina laughed. “Oh please.”

  “No, seriously. Everyone wanted to be you guys, and you guys were so, like, fucking… cool.”

  “Believe me, I wasn’t cool.”

  “Okay, mean, then?”

  “Jeez, Heather, what the fuck? Where is this coming from?”

  “Nothing…. I mean –“

  Trina laughed. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, what? You fucked some guy because, what? Bryce Banner wouldn’t kiss you?”

  Heather shrugged. “Something like that.”

  “First of all, Duckie. He’d have kissed you if you’d shown any interest. He might have been thirteen, but he was a total manwhore… well, boywhore. Whatever. But you were all, like, I don’t know, judgmental.”

  “Was not,” she replied.

  Heather’s mind swirled. Judgmental. Yeah, that was about right. And not just about others, but about herself. Living under the weight of unspoken expectations.

  Trina refilled their wine glass. “Yeah huh.”

  Heather thought about it. She had once called Lorelei a whore. She shuddered.

  “I was a sort of an entitled little bitch, wasn’t I?”

  “Oh, fuck, Heather, you were thirteen. We were all cycling through entitled, pathetic, terrified, and cocky. That’s what being thirteen is all about, isn’t it?” In response to a giddy shriek from the other room, she added, “We’ll get there soon enough with our kids, won’t we?”

  Heather groaned. “Don’t say that! I am not the mother of a teenager.”

  “And, what, when you are, that’ll mean you need to have another affair?”

  “Fuck you, Trina.”

  Trina laughed. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair.”

  Heather shook her head. “Oh, fuck it, it was. Wasn’t it?”

  “No.”

  “But it was. I can’t explain it. And… maybe it’s all bullshit. You know, I never thought about this shit before. It’s just, since it happened, I’ve been trying to –“

  “Explain it. Put it in a box.”

  “I need to.”

  “Why?” Trina asked. “Why are you so determined to make this thing meaningful? What if it wasn’t? What if it was just a dumb, stupid, crazily hot, mistake?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if I box it, I can control it. If I can’t, then how can I be sure I won’t do it again?”

  “You can’t. You can’t be sure. That’s not how it works.”

  “How what works?”

  “Life, Duckie, life.”

  Heather paused. Trina’s assessment felt weirdly persuasive. She need to control it, and yet she knew she couldn’t. She couldn’t stop thinking about Damon, and she wasn’t sure she could stop herself from bringing it up, even if obliquely. The truth was, the last couple of days had been the hottest sex she’d had with Jeff.

  ***

  Heather walked into the bedroom, brushing her hair. Jeff was waiting for her beneath the covers. She was wearing satin PJs. Even though they weren’t particularly skimpy, they were shiny and clingy, and she could see her husband’s eyes roaming over her body.

  “So, what’s your fantasy?” he asked.

  Oooh, his words were a thrill. And a threat. Until two day ago, would Jeff have ever asked the question? What was making him ask it now? She backed away from that line of thought.

  “I saw Trina today—“

  “That’s my fantasy,” he interrupted. “What’s yours?”

  It was so tempting to be the Cool Girl. Oh baby, I just want to suck on Trina’s juicy pussy, and then suck your cock. But she sensed that Jeff was already skeptical, already ready to doubt her. He wanted to play, but he was also testing her. Or maybe… maybe it was just her guilty conscience.

  Damon, baby. He’s my fantasy. I can’t get him out of my head. I can still feel his hands on my ass, my throat, pulling my hair, playing with my nipples. I dream of his huge cock inside me, thrusting deeper, deeper.

  Jeff persisted: “When you were alone, in Cancun, what did you think about? And don’t say me.”

  An invitation to a confession. And yet… so full of risk. A crazy thought entered her mind. Did he know? No, he couldn’t. If he did, he wouldn’t raise it like this. Still, a dangerous moment. But she couldn’t resist.

  She sat on the bed, and then after a moment, turned toward Jeff.

  “A man.”

  “Yeah?” Jeff was scared, but eager. “So you said that already.”

  Heather forced herself to be nonchalant. “I had a lot of time to think. All by myself.”

  “Who did you think about?”

  A shrug. “A stranger.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Your fantasies don’t include physical details?”

  She pictured Damon, but she wasn’t sure how much to admit. How much would Jeff take?

  “Tall?” He prompt
ed.

  “Yes.”

  “Dark?”

  “Yes,” she replied enthusiastically.

  His eyes widened.

  “Black?”

  Heather’s breath caught. “Yes. I mean… maybe.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Big cock?”

  She laughed.

  “Nice cliché,” he teased.

  “The reason it’s a cliché is that it’s a common fantasy,” she echoed his words.

  “Okay, okay, easy baby,” he was obviously trying to calm himself down as much as her.

  He took a deep breath.

  “So tell me about this fantasy,” he echoed her question to him.

  Heather’s mind swirled. Plausible deniability, and yet, and yet, it almost felt like he knew it was more. A trap? His fantasy? Just a game? Her instinct screamed at her to cautious, but she couldn’t resist. Just as she couldn’t resist Damon, she couldn’t resist the temptation to talk about it.

  “I don’t know. It is hard to explain. I wasn’t looking for a fling.”

  “But he was too handsome to resist?”

  Fuck. It was like he was inside her head. But no. It wasn’t that. He was hot. No doubt. But that wasn’t it. Not all of it. Or Jesus, was it? No. It wasn’t just physical.

  “He was handsome, but also… fun?”

  “I bet.”

  “Not like that…”

  Heather was walking a tightrope. Teasing her husband. Confessing her sins. She knew she was playing with fire. And she knew why. In the back of her mind, that crazy hope that Damon had planted there, that maybe, just maybe her fling would excite him.

  “No?”

  Heather blushed. He reached out from under the covers and ran his hand over her thigh. He was topless… maybe even completely nude. He wanted this… or at least wanted to hear something.