Lover

by Marni Mann

  My head’s still all over the place, remembering where he’s been and feeling him in all those places.

  Concentrating on anything other than West is impossible.

  This morning, I burned Cannon’s toast, spilled his coffee, and forgot to iron his dress shirt. He kissed my cheek instead of my lips before he left for work in a similar daze, and I know it had everything to do with swinging.

  I thought I’d get my head on straight after I saw West this morning, but speaking with him only made things worse. I had to cut my run short. Not even a long, sweaty jog could clear my head.

  Nothing feels the same as it did before I had West. Not even my husband.

  I need a distraction, so I head straight for the bathroom and turn on some music. A shower would be faster, but what do I have to do today? Absolutely nothing, and suddenly, I miss my job a little bit more.

  I pour some jasmine bath soap into the tub and turn on the water. While it’s filling, I go to the kitchen for some coffee.

  With my mug in hand, I stand in front of the sliding glass door, and my heart skips a beat. West is passing by with his shirt in his hand, pounding his feet into the sand. Like he can feel me watching, he turns his head and glances at the house.

  Maybe he’s thinking of me, too.

  I watch him until he’s out of sight and manage to make it to the bathroom before the tub overflows. As soon as I strip off my sports bra and spandex, I sink beneath the water and groan.

  West said he took it easy on me. If last night was easy, I can only imagine what it’d be like if he wasn’t so careful. I’ve never had rough sex. Sex with Cannon is always sweet and sincere even when I beg him to move harder and faster.

  With West, there’s an element of surprise. Because I don’t know what he likes or what turns him on, our time together could go in any direction. Maybe that’s what’s so appealing—the fact that he could toss me around and dirty me up. And I’d like it.

  Every time I close my eyes, that’s exactly what I picture.

  My phone chimes with an alert, and I risk dropping it in the tub just to see if I have an email from Tilly. I do. A quick read-through, and it’s clear how eager she is for another night. That familiar pang is back in my chest, and I think I must be crazy to send my husband back into her waiting arms.

  Crazy or not, I reply, letting her know we’re good for tomorrow night. Cannon’s due in court, which means he’s guaranteed to be out of the office at a decent hour. Maybe I should have asked him before I agreed to another night, but I didn’t want to wait. Waiting would give him a chance to change his mind.

  Before I set my phone down, I pull up my Contacts and stare at West’s number listed under Tilly’s name. A call would be too risky, but a text might be okay. After all, he wouldn’t have given me his number if he didn’t expect me to use it.

  Piper: It’s me.

  I wait a couple of seconds, wondering if he’ll blow me off or respond. He doesn’t make me wait long, and I smile when his response comes through.

  Tilly: Hey.

  But I decide I don’t like her name attached to our conversation and quickly change it to his.

  Piper: Is this okay?

  West: Depends.

  My hands start to shake even though I’m sitting in warm water. Maybe I overstepped by messaging him. Maybe this number is only for emergencies. But what constitutes an emergency? Needing him so bad, my body aches to be touched? Because, if that’s the case, then this is definitely an emergency.

  Piper: On what?

  West: If you’re naked or not.

  The trembling stops, and I smile. I’m not used to a man being this direct, but I like it. I like it more than I thought possible.

  Piper: I’m taking a bath.

  West: Fuck. Send me a pic.

  I bite my lip and aim the phone at the bath, snapping a quick picture. I’ve never done anything like this before, and it’s thrilling that a simple picture of my body can bring someone else so much pleasure. You can see the tips of my knees poking out of the water with little soap bubbles around them. If you zoom in, you might be able to see more of my skin beneath the water. There’s no indication that it’s me, just a little piece of my body.

  West snaps one of himself and sends it back. He’s still sweaty from his run and hard as a rock, every glorious inch of him.

  Piper: I’ll help you with that tomorrow.

  West: With your mouth?

  He doesn’t ask for any of the details of our next meetup, just bypasses them entirely and focuses on what I promise to do for him. But I know he’ll be ready for me, just like I’m already aching for him.

  Piper: You want me to suck you?

  West: As hard as you fucking can.

  I can’t bring myself to tell him how much I want to taste him. I’ve never sent dirty texts to someone I barely know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to make him feel as good as he’s making me feel. Because I’m so turned on, I debate fingering myself, but I can’t. When West touches me, I want him to feel how ready I am, how long I’ve been craving him.

  I wish I had more of him to take the edge off, something to satisfy my craving, but the picture will have to be enough. It’s another reminder of how much I need this. How much I need to swing another night. Maybe it’ll get old, and we’ll get bored with each other, but right now, it’s more than I ever could have imagined.

  West

  I send Piper a text that I want her to suck me as hard as she can, and then I lift my thumbs off the screen and wait for her reply. The bubble on her side of the message appears. It disappears and returns again. She’s either writing a long-ass text or she’s having a hard time coming up with a response. I have a feeling it’s the latter. It didn’t take her more than two hours to reach out. And, now, I know much more than I should. She’s naked in her bathtub, and through the water, I see the outline of her tits and those perky pink nipples.

  I doubt Cannon would be comfortable with any of that.

  I don’t think Tilly would like it either or the picture I sent Piper.

  But it’s done.

  And, now, Piper knows I’m hard as fuck, wanting her lips around my crown.

  Is this wrong?

  Shit, I don’t know anymore.

  But I know I want Piper’s mouth. I know how soft it is. I know how plump her lips are after I kiss her. I know how perfect they’d look around my cock.

  My phone suddenly vibrates, showing another text from her.

  Piper: Would you like to see me swallow?

  She’d look so goddamn sexy with a bead of my cum on her mouth, her tongue sticking out to lick it off.

  I reach down and adjust, the tip of my dick now extending past the elastic of my boxer briefs. I’ll need some relief soon because I certainly can’t spend the rest of my day like this.

  West: You can do anything you want with my cum.

  I like this side of her. I didn’t know it existed, but I’m learning that texting is much easier for her. She doesn’t have to look me in the face, doesn’t have to wonder what I’m going to do to her, doesn’t have to worry about her husband watching her scream out an orgasm. These are just words she types onto a screen. But she means them because, as much as she tried to hide it on the beach, I know I’ve gotten into her head.

  She’s gotten into mine.

  From the first smile she gave me, I’ve wanted her. I wouldn’t have acted on it, not unless she was a woman my wife brought home and I had permission to touch her. But, now that my cock has sunk into her warmth and wetness, I need so much more of her.

  Piper: Like let you put it somewhere on my body? That’s hot.

  West: You want me to mark you, Piper?

  Piper: Yes.

  I set my phone down until I feel it vibrate a few seconds later, not even giving me enough time to put my dick in my hand.

  Piper: This conversation is making me sexgry.

  West: What the hell is that?

  Piper: Hungry for sex. Sexgry.
A word made especially for you.

  West: When can I stop being sexgry and have you?

  Piper: Tomorrow night.

  She’s already spoken to Tilly? I thought my wife would take a few days before she reached out to them. Unless that means Piper contacted Tilly first.

  The thought makes me smile.

  She really does want my cock as much as I want her cunt.

  I figured I’d have to wait at least a week to have her, maybe a few. Cannon must have really enjoyed my wife. That surprises me because Tilly doesn’t seem like his type. And, for sure, I know he isn’t hers. She likes her women pretty but not her men. That’s Cannon all right—gelled and styled and primped or whatever those fucking guys do. Maybe Cannon’s prettiness reminds Tilly of all the women she likes to go down on.

  West: Make sure your pussy is ready because I’m not going to be gentle with it.

  I place my phone on the couch beside me and pick up the remote. Just as I start flipping through the channels, Tilly comes into the room. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts without anything on the bottom, and I can tell she doesn’t have on a bra.

  She straddles my lap and says, “Oh.” Then, she looks down at my cock. “That didn’t take long.”

  I still had a chub from my conversation with Piper, but seeing my wife’s nipples through my shirt got me right back up again. She has the most perfect fucking tits even if I had to pay for them.

  “You’re still all sweaty. Why haven’t you showered yet?”

  I shrug.

  The real answer is because Piper started texting me. I’m not sure if I can tell my wife that or not. Part of me thinks it would turn her on. The other part thinks she’d get jealous, and that isn’t something I want to deal with. It will cut off my time with Piper, and I can’t let that happen.

  “Just taking a second to catch my breath.”

  She shifts her hips back. “You don’t get winded, baby. Not with the stamina you have.”

  “It’s hot out there, and it takes a lot out of me.”

  She pulls down the waist of my shorts, and my cock springs free. She takes it in her hand and rubs around the crown. “I don’t believe you.”

  I don’t want to give anything away on my face, but the concern is there. Does she somehow know I’ve been texting with Piper?

  “I think you were waiting for me to do this.” She rises and sticks the tip of my cock inside her. Then, she drops straight down, her pussy clenching as my entire shaft fills her.

  Jesus, fuck, that feels good.

  And I’m relieved as hell to hear she doesn’t know about the texts. She thinks I’ve been on the couch, waiting for her.

  Maybe I have been.

  This is what we’re good at after all. This is what I crave from her. This is what keeps me waking up next to her every morning. My wife knows how to ride a dick. She knows how to reach behind and tickle my balls just as I’m about to come. She knows that I like her nipples near my mouth in case I feel like biting them.

  And I do.

  I take one into my mouth, wrapping my teeth around the back, sucking the front and flicking it with my tongue. She moans loudly and uses my legs to hold her weight.

  There’s no self-doubt with this one. No nervous energy. No reason to take things slow. She bounces over my fucking dick like she does everything else—with complete confidence.

  I release her tit and lean into the cushion of the couch.

  Her hands are now on her nipples, her hips grinding back and forth instead of rising and dropping.

  “Enjoy the ride, baby.”

  Piper

  Every one of the text messages I send to West leaves me both excited and worried. They’re not fair to Tilly or Cannon, yet I can’t stop. Neither of them would understand why we were doing it or the pull that kept us from stopping. I don’t even understand it or where this need comes from.

  Would we have moved this fast, this soon, under normal circumstances? Never.

  Nothing about the way I’m talking to West is normal for me. Even with Cannon, I took a couple of weeks to warm up to the idea of flirting on the phone.

  I’m not a prude, just shy until I get to know someone. Somehow, I bypassed that entire stage with West. I’m still crazy nervous when I’m around him, even when I press each key to type out a text, but I do it because of the way it makes me feel—like I’m dancing on hot coals, shuffling around until West puts out the fire.

  Only the temperature never cools, and our conversations only grow hotter.

  Sitting here, on the floor of my closet, my clit’s pulsing, aching for him to flick it with his tongue.

  If Tilly or Cannon were to find out about our messages, they’d have every right to be upset. I’d be forced to confess the truth to my husband—that I’d crossed paths with West before we met at the hotel. Even though we’d never spoken before that night, I still felt like I already knew West. Because, in only a few days’ time on the beach, we had already been harboring secrets and special glances.

  Seeing him, that fantasy came to life. Every look. Every smirk. Every promise of what his smoldering eyes could do for me was real.

  West didn’t disappoint. Not in bed or on the phone.

  And I can’t wait to be back in his arms, unleashing a new part of him I won’t be able to get enough of.

  The last message from him came through over an hour ago, and here I sit, next to a pile of clothing, trying to think of something seductive to say back to him. Something that will keep him turned on and make him want to fuck me—hard. Harder than he’s ever fucked his wife.

  Picking up my phone, I stare at his last text—the one about fucking my pussy—and my heart races.

  “It’s now or never, Piper. Just be honest, and tell him what you’re thinking,” I mumble to myself.

  And then I press the keys with a trembling hand.

  Piper: My pussy’s so wet, you can slip right inside me.

  My fingers hover over the Send button, but I go back and forth with myself about actually sending it. It’s too much. Too personal. And then I hear the sound of Cannon’s voice, and I send it without even thinking, like I’m about to get caught.

  “Babe? Where are you?” he says again.

  “I’m in here!” I yell with a shaky voice.

  I don’t know what’s worse—the fact that I just texted West or that I sent it to the sound of my husband’s voice.

  Cannon sticks his head around the corner and takes a look at the heap of clothing I have strewn around the walk-in closet. The mess looks a lot like the inside of my mind.

  “Either you’re bored or you’re mad at me,” he says.

  “Believe it or not, I didn’t throw a single thing.” But I did make a mess, and it’s going to take another hour to hang everything back up. Cannon knows that when I’m stressed, I reorganize and clean. Even my shoes are all over the place.

  He hesitates and runs his hand through his hair. “So, you are mad at me?”

  “What? No. Why would I be mad?”

  “Because I’m an asshole sometimes.”

  After he loosens his tie, he undoes the first two buttons of his dress shirt and sits on the carpet with his legs stretched out in front of him. He looks tired, like he had a rough night of sleep. We both did.

  It’s only lunchtime, and I rack my brain, trying to figure out why he’s here. I’m sure I didn’t forget about meeting him for lunch or anything like that.

  “What’s wrong, Cannon?”

  “C’mere,” he whispers.

  So, I crawl on my hands and knees until I’m in his lap, nestled against his chest.

  Only then does he say, “I owe you an apology.”

  “For what?” I ask him as guilt seeps through my pores.

  Here he is, apologizing, and I’m the one who’s walking around with a pretty big secret. I hate that it’s a secret at all. We both agreed to swinging. Only West and I have taken it a step further. A step that wasn’t agreed upon by all four of us.

>   I think about how I’d feel if the roles were reversed. I wouldn’t like it.

  It’s not like they can’t have private conversations while they’re having sex, but I guess that would be allowed. As long as we’re all present, anything goes during that time. It’s what happens after-hours that rides a fine line between right and wrong.

  But Cannon agreed to a second time with Tilly pretty fast. Both of them are just as eager as West and I are to jump back into bed. Because of that, I justify the texts as nothing more than innocent flirting—interaction that’ll only enhance our time together.

  For all I know, Tilly and Cannon could have some kind of hidden connection, some kind of secret communication through email that West and I know nothing about. Something fueling them to make their time together happen sooner rather than later. That, I would understand. I’d be okay with it because I get it. I know what it’s like to have a taste and then want more so badly, you can’t possibly deny yourself the pleasure.

  If we’d allowed texting from the start, none of this would be wrong. It would be a part of the arrangement—something crucial to our time in bed. But we didn’t agree to it, and now, I regret not speaking up when Tilly was discussing the rules. But how was I supposed to know what I wanted when I was going in blind? I didn’t.

  Cannon kisses the top of my head and says, “I’m sorry I left here upset. I’ll get used to things, I promise.”

  “You’re trying; that’s enough for me, Cannon. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  He nods and thinks about what I said. “I think separate rooms is the answer.”

  “Really? You think the fix is that simple?”

  “It’s seeing you with West that sets me off. The guilt is something I’ll have to figure out.”

  “What guilt?”

  “The guilt from touching Tilly. Don’t get me wrong; the sex is great in the moment. Afterward, when the rush wears off, I just feel like shit about what I let her do to me and what I did to her. Like I’m doing something wrong that’s going to hurt you.”