Because that’s what I was doing, wasn’t it?
My chest was full of ice, and my stomach twisted in pain, but I still sort of wanted to find her there. Even as I neared a vantage point behind the bushes where I could see the people swimming, and I recognized that the female voice in the pond wasn’t hers, I still kept going, holding out on a weird combination of lust and dread.
There was a couple in the pond, locked together and making out. But the man had dark hair and the woman was blonde. She was wrapped around his torso and their lips were connected. I watched for a moment, unsure of why a feeling of being let down was spilling over me.
I moved on (after watching for a bit) and found my way to the bar after making a wrong turn and ending up in a clearing on the other side of the trees. There were only a handful of people in the restaurant, sipping beer and speaking in lazy, muted afternoon voices.
Frustrated, I trotted down the steps with my hands in my pockets and squinted into the sun. I took the road back to the cottage, even though it was a longer walk. I didn’t need any more bugs biting me, and I suppose I thought I might run into her.
About halfway to the cottage I decided to call Robin and see where she was, which is what any normal person would have done from the beginning. I got a light signal and gave it a try. She could at least tell me where she was, even if the conversation was garbled.
There was no answer, and I got nothing but the sound of her standard answering service, fading in and out as I continued walking down the road. It only made me burn even more inside. My imagination went wild the entire walk home, piling up scene after scene of Robin and Heath, their bodies wet with sweat, his hips grinding against hers, her pussy getting filled up with his cum.
The house was still unoccupied when I got back. I crept into it anyway, listening for the sound of two lovers dashing across the floor to hide somewhere or climb out a window. For whispers, or footsteps, or even the sound of panting and slapping skin. I could feel my erection growing as I moved slowly to the foot of the stairs, my ears craving to hear something wet and sticky.
But no one was there.
Dissatisfied with my own dissatisfaction, I opened the fridge to look for a beer.
I stared at the contents. Bottles of different kinds of craft beers crowded out a dish with slices of tomato and some condiment containers. Tons of beer.
Not really Robin’s thing.
I took one and started pulling drawers open in search of a bottle-opener. Now my heart was really racing, my anger burning right through the center of me. What, was she having her buddy Heath over for beers all the time? Maybe she kept them around just in case he dropped by. Maybe they lounged around in the bed, drinking beer and giggling like new lovers.
I set the beer down (I couldn’t find a bottle opener) and dashed up the stairs.
I surveyed the room. The bed on one side of the cabin was made up, but unwrinkled and untouched. The sheets and blankets on the other bed had been kicked off the foot of it and remained in a pile at the end of the bed. Some of Robin’s clothes were crumpled on the floor, as though she had stepped out of her shorts and panties at the same time. There was a hole in the center of each leg, like they had slid down her thighs, onto the floor, and she had stepped out of them.
I couldn’t actually believe myself, but I snatched up her panties and smelled them. The scent of her pussy, tangy and sweet, filled my nostrils.
It wasn’t really evidence of anything, one way or the other.
I looked at the bed. The sheets had been stretched and moved around on, but that also didn’t say much, because Robin was a restless sleeper sometimes.
Still... it was just as easy to imagine that the sheets had been pulled and contorted as two bodies writhed on top of them...
I was just in the act of crawling onto the bed to bend over and smell the sheets, still searching for evidence of something I seemed to want to find and not want to find, when I heard the screen door slam.
“Tony?” Robin called.
I stood up, trying to control my blood pressure, thinking of what I was going to say. Half of me was already going down the path of being as angry as if I had discovered something real... and the other half was pleading with myself to stay calm because I hadn’t actually discovered anything at all.
And then the screen door slammed again.
My blood went cold. I stopped in my tracks, listening. The air around me seemed suddenly stuffy, hot.
A male voice said something, low and deliberately indistinguishable.
Robin said something, and I could only make out, “...don’t know... car.”
More mumbling.
“Tony? You here?”
Then more talking. I leaned toward the stairs to better hear, but I didn’t dare move or the floor would creak. What would they do, if they decided I wasn’t here? Was that Heath, with her? And what were they talking about?
“Okay,” Robin said. “Well...”
And a strange silence.
More talking, then the door opened, and then it hissed closed before slamming.
I moved to the top of the stairs.
Robin shrieked when she saw me, and her hand flew up to her heart. “Jesus! Fuck, Tony. You scared the shit out of me. Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
She went from wildly frightened at the beginning of her proclamation, to angry by the end. She narrowed her eyes.
“I was taking a little catnap,” I lied. “The door woke me up.”
Robin relaxed. “God,” she said. “Seriously, you freaked me out.” She looked around. “Sorry... I thought you were coming later, I came back to clean things up before you got here.”
I stepped down the stairs, descending slowly, watching Robin’s every move.
“Who was that?” I said.
Robin pushed her hair up to cool her neck off. “Huh?”
I studied her face. Was she lying to me?
“Whoever just left. Who was that?”
“Oh...” she said, dropping her hair and waving absent-mindedly at the door. “This guy Chris. I had a bunch of stuff to bring back and he helped me carry it.”
She blew on her bangs. “It’s hot as hell in here. You want a beer?”
She turned toward the kitchen area, and that’s when I realized, watching her legs wobble a little, that she was drunk.
Really, quite drunk. She opened the fridge and leaned on the door, making it tip on the uneven floor and jostling all the beers. “Whoo,” she declared, and the uneven volume of her voice confirmed my suspicion.
She kicked the door closed and turned to the counter.
I scrutinized what she was wearing: her black bikini top, and a pair of short cutoffs over what appeared to be her suit bottoms. A dark stain of water revealed the outline of the suit. Her skin glowed with the sienna color of a fresh tan that bordered on a sunburn.
She slipped a bottle opener out of her pocket and popped the tops off the beers. Then she started, when she noticed the beer I had left on the counter. She looked at the two in her right hand, and back at the beer.
“Are you drunk?” I said.
She turned around to face me. Her cheeks were flushed and she had a wildly attractive glow. “I think I am, actually,” she said. She extended her hand and I took the beer from her.
“Where were you?” I asked.
She had the beer to her mouth and was taking a long swig of it. She released the beer bottle almost breathlessly. She rubbed her hand over her forehead. “At Heath’s place. Fuck, it’s so hot,” she complained again.
I was silent, watching her, my mind picking over her behavior. She didn’t seem particularly guilty of anything, and her manners didn’t speak to some kind of guilty conscience.
Still, if I wanted to think something was going on, there was plenty of circumstantial evidence.
“The electricity's off and on,” Robin said, tipping the beer into her mouth at the end of her sentence. “So I hope you’re ready for a hot time.”
And yet I could still feel something inside of me that... yes, wanted for there to be something more to the story.
“So you went to Heath’s, huh?” I said.
Robin wiped her forehead again. “They have a little pool,” she said.
“I thought there was a pool at the clubhouse.”
Robin looked at me, and her heckles started to rise for the first time. “Yeah. But everyone ‘cool’ goes to Heath’s house.”
She was making fun of me.
“It seems like you had a lot of drinks,” I said.
Robin looked into her beer. “I think I did. Too many. It was just so nice floating around in the pool. I think the sun got me, too.” She looked up at me. “More drunk, I mean.”
There was a silence. I tried to subdue the irritation inside of me, but it was boiling in my blood. Anxiety, irritation, lust, disappointment...
“Hey,” Robin said, looking up and behind her at a tasteless rooster clock on the wall. “Why are you here so early? What time did you get here?”
Her question sounded perfectly neutral. Her voice was perfectly normal. She sounded happy to see me, not like a woman who’s had other plans to fuck some guy upstairs just hours before her husband came in from the city.
What was I thinking, anyway?
I stepped close to her. “I just wanted to see you. I left early, did some extra work yesterday and the day before to make up for it.”
“Uh-huh,” she said coyly. She put her hand on my shirt and ran her fingers along the collar, making the material scrape my skin lightly and sending a shudder down my spine. “You’re sure you’re not checking up on me? Trying to surprise me? Trying to see if I’m up to something naughty?”
She moved her leg against mine, her upper thigh against the inside of my thigh as she said this. So when she uttered her final sentence, when that curvy, sexy word “naughty” came out of her mouth, and my cock jerked against her leg, she felt it clear as day.
I saw her eyes light up.
“Hmm,” she said. She moved against me and leaned back a little when I caught her around the waist. She played with the straps of her bikini, pulling on the fabric until I could see into the gap between it and her skin, her pink nipples hard and inviting. The bikini had left a faint white triangle over her skin.
Awfully faint, given how tanned she was.
“What...” I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling it clench with excitement. “What naughty thing would you get up to, little girl?”
I pulled on the string of her bikini. “Were you out sunbathing naked again?”
Robin grinned. “Hmm... not naked.”
I must have raised my eyebrows with a little bit more than feigned alarm, equal to what I felt. “Oh, really?”
I wasn’t sure if she was joking now or not. Especially after her naked walk out to the driveway, and her strange behavior of late. I couldn’t exactly tell if it was part of the game as she helped the string of her bikini along, letting the material fall down, exposing her skin.
“You know how I hate tan lines,” she purred. “Anyway, all the other girls were doing it.”
There was no way to lie that this idea excited me, especially because the first “other girl” I thought of was the buxom Sophie, and when I thought of her, I thought of her naked.
But while my cock was hard, my face must have betrayed something worrisome, because Robin smiled and kissed me on the lips. “You know I’m just joking,” she said. Then she leaned back. “Well, about me, anyway. But....”
She let her unfinished sentence linger in the air seductively as she hung onto my neck and swayed back away from me, as though we were dancing.
“But...?” I said. The bikini was sliding off her breasts and I was having a hard time concentrating on the conversation.
Robin smiled again, mysteriously, and another prickle of arousal spiked through my balls.
“You wouldn’t believe what people are up to over there, actually,” she said. “Like, not everyone. But a lot of people.”
“Like what?” I tugged on her bikini strings to completely peel away the suit top, and then I leaned down, pushing her chest toward me with my hand on her back, so that I could flick my tongue at her nipple.
She laughed a little and squirmed in my arms. I had let my beard grow a few days’ worth of stubble, partly out of laziness but, I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind it was partly to match Heath’s manly jaw stubble.
Whatever the reason, Robin seemed to enjoy it.
“Like what?” I repeated, moving my mouth to her other nipple. Because as interested as I was in the silky halos of her aureole, I wanted to know what everyone got up to at Heath’s house.
“Well, lots of nudists over there, for one,” Robin said. She giggled again and sucked in her breath as I pushed her backward toward the sturdy butcher-block style table at one of the counter. I unbuttoned her shorts and gave them a tug before lifting her up to sit on it. Then I plunged my hand into her swimsuit bottoms, and into the folds of her pussy. I found her soaked and slick.
My eyes went wide and something a little like erotic terror burst inside my chest. I moved my mouth in a fish-like move. My hands felt around, confirming what I had initially discovered: her cunt was bare and smooth.
Robin smiled wryly. “You like it?” she said casually.
There was no sense trying to tell her how I felt about it. That it was like an ice pick through my heart, cold and suspicious. That it was hot as hell, that my fingers were unable to get enough of the feel of her while I imagined how she would look when I finally got her spread open on the bed or the floor and got a chance to see what I could feel in my hand. No sense trying to tell her I loved and hated it.
“What else,” I said. I sounded distracted, because I was. My mind was spinning with the feel of Robin’s hot cunt, and her breathy voice vibrating against my neck, and the images she was conjuring, of nude ladies strewn about the pool. And the images I was making, of her bare cunt.
“I guess the reason...” Robin started to say, and I was as lost as she was about what she wanted to say, or why. The only thing I could think of now was her bare pussy, and all that it implied: had she done it for someone else?
She lost her train of thought as my finger slid over her clit. She gasped and I looked at her face. Her went glassy with pleasure.
“Keep talking,” I urged her, moving over her hard clit again, even though I didn’t even know what we were talking about anymore. She gasped.
“I guess... I guess the reason there are so many... people here... is that it’s kind of like, a... like a swinger’s club or something.”
I dragged my finger up the ride of her clit and felt her shudder against my hand. With my free hand I pulled on the strings of her bikini bottoms. First the right, then sliding my hand over the plumped-up curve of her ass, the left.
I pushed her legs open and stared at her newly-waxed pussy, at the exposed skin I had never seen before. She looked raw, and vulgar, and beautiful; the contents of her bare petals spilling out, glistening with her excitement.
And then the meaning of what she had just said (swingers) hit me, and my balls throbbed, along with my cock.
“Is that so,” I said. I pinched her clit between my fingers. “And how did you find this out?”
Robin mewled. Her head tipped forward and she wiggled her hips to get my fingers to drive harder against her clit. She rocked back and forth a few times. “It, um... I ssss.... I saw.... I saw...” her voice trailed off and she started to rub herself against my hand.
I pulled my hand away from her clit and slowly up her stomach, between the two of us. Her face twisted with a sudden agony, and she looked at me, pleading fo
r me to go back to what I had been doing.
I brought my nectar-coated fingers to her mouth, and traced them along her lower lip. Robin opened her mouth and sucked my fingertips into her hot, wet hole. As she closed her mouth around my fingers, she sent a wave of heat through me.
“What did you see?” I breathed. “Tell me and I’ll let you come.”
I pulled on her lower lip, watching her open mouth, thinking about having it closed around my cock.
...around Heath’s cock...
“I walked in on someone... or maybe... I mean, they weren’t even hiding. But there were two guys and a woman, and she's married, and they were.... you know.”
I shook my head slightly, and moved my hand down to her sopping cunt. I brushed over it with the lightest touch I could manage, even though I was aching to shove my fingers into her and feel the heat of her body closing around my hand. “I don’t know. Tell me,” I said.
“She was, um... she had one of them in her mouth. And the other guy was behind her. Just going at it. Right in the living room.”
I rewarded her by sliding my finger into her pussy and pinching her clit from the inside out and the outside in. Robin mewled again and I curled my fingers to stroke her where I thought she liked it best. I seemed to get it right; I felt a shudder travel through her limbs each time I moved my finger.
“And did you watch them?” I said. I was asking but I was off in another world, expressing my fantasies, making Robin come on a kitchen table, thinking of how I was going to come the moment I put my cock inside of her.
I didn’t expect her to say:
“I did.”
She paused, and leaned forward, grinding up against me.
I tugged on my pants and my boxers hurriedly and freed my cock. I found her sopping hole, not able to take any more, and I pushed myself inside of her.
Robin put her mouth next to my ear. “I looked away at first, and then I stopped and watched the whole thing. I watched them until they came in her mouth and her pussy at the same time. Her husband was watching -”
Robin's Fix: A Hotwife Novel Page 7
