Best Served Cold (fiction)
Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2019 7:43 pm
Best Served Cold
by Don Jetman
The lounge was crowded. It was Saturday night, and the barflies were
out in swarms. We took the booth at the end of the room, hidden
slightly from the crowd in a corner recess that hinted at false privacy.
Exactly two drinks later he settled in next to her, drooling at my wife
as he would a juicy steak.
"My God, you look delicious tonight, Linda."
My wife stared at him with wide, hungry eyes. She had finished her
second of two drinks in the time it took me to finish one. Drinking
was something she did on special occasions - our anniversary or New
Year's Eve - and I could see she was unsteady from the two whiskey
sours forced down over the past thirty minutes.
I flinched when he placed his hand on her thigh, and again when he
spoke.
"My name is Stephan. You must be David. I hear you've been a naughty
boy."
He looked across the table at me and grinned. His eyes glittered with
the promise of trouble. Linda saw him watching me and followed with a
small smile of her own.
He took her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it lightly.
"Your wife is most appreciative. I like that in a woman."
He leered at her, suggesting much more than the words that dripped from
his mouth.
Suddenly he was more business-like. He looked at me, as if to assure he
had my attention.
"Tonight you'll learn that hell really does 'hath no fury like a woman
scorned'."
"What do you mean by that?" I stammered.
"Relax, David. Your wife has decided to forgive your little
indiscretion - but only after having a go at your game herself. Look
at it as punishment, or a lesson, but either way she's decided on her
price. I'd suggest you pay it."
I shot her a questioning look, expecting her to explain. She didn't.
"So, what's this 'price' he's taking about?" I asked finally.
Her smile grew wider. She ran the tip of her finger around the rim of
her glass, brought it slowly to her mouth, and gently sucked the
moisture from it before answering. Her eyes were glassy, her
pupils large, dark wells of mystery.
"You had your fun. Now it's my turn."
She turned toward him, pulled him close, and covered his mouth with
hers. The kiss was long and deep. A minute passed, then two. She
sucked at him hungrily, her tongue wrestling with his, her hands
clutching him from behind his neck. I heard her moan softly as she
melted away from him, then faced me again with the same smile.
Stephan composed himself, took a long drink of his scotch, and sighed.
"It's been an interesting week, David - one I'll remember for a long
time to come."
"An interesting week? What does he mean?" I hissed.
She eyed me coolly, then looked straight at me as she spoke in a voice
I was afraid could be heard at the next table.
"I've given myself to Stephan. He owns me - or has, for the past week,
until midnight tonight. Your affair lasted much longer, but I thought
a week would be enough. Any longer and I might not have been able to
stop. He's handsome, strong, and very sexy - it just seemed to make
sense. I put myself in his hands - told him I'd do anything he wanted
for one week. Anything."
She looked over at him and wet her lips. His hand had edged her dress
up, and was now stroking her thigh.
"I have a request, Linda. Your husband is somewhat incredulous at this
point. I can certainly understand why. You can move things along with
a gesture of your willingness to cooperate. I'd like you to find the
ladies room, then remove whatever you're wearing under this
conservative little black dress - bra, panties, slip, nylons -
everything. Put all of it in your purse, and return to us wearing
nothing but your dress and shoes. While you're gone, David and I will
get to know each other better. Run along now. We'll be counting the
minutes..."
She left the table without a word. I had no trouble reading the mix of
fear and excitement on her face.
We sat in silence for a long time before he spoke. The waiter returned
with another round of drinks. The muzak changed from pop to classical.
Growing beads of water trickled down the side of my glass, each droplet
collapsing into the fresh paper napkin.
"If you could have only seen her the day she offered herself to me."
"She didn't offer herself to you. You'll never make me believe - "
"She went to her knees the first time I asked. I can still see her
small fingers unzipping me, fumbling with my belt. And later, again,
in the park, how her diamond sparkled in the afternoon sun."
"You lying son of a bitch."
He went on as if I hadn't said a word.
"She closed her lips around my cock, almost dutifully, as I might have
expected from your wife. She sucked me until I gave her every drop,
then swallowed all of it without complaining. I like that, too. I had
her go braless during our stroll in the park. We found a secluded spot
behind a hedge near a playground. She opened the front of her blouse
just before she blew me again. We could hear the children's laughter
as she milked me with her mouth. Her nipples hardened so quickly under
my fingertips..."
He smiled and took another sip of his drink, taking in my reaction.
"Linda wouldn't do that. I don't believe any of it!"
"I can see why you'd think that at this point. But given time, I think
you'll be surprised at what your wife is capable of. Most women are
sluts at heart. Linda is certainly no exception. She's well on her
way to proving it."
I didn't know what to think. Linda was someone I had known for ten
years, my wife, my lover, and my friend. Her attitude toward sex
wasn't puritanical, but she wasn't a woman who lowered her inhibitions
easily. His story was preposterous, or at least exaggerated in the
extreme. Yet, she was terribly hurt, full of the 'fury' he spoke of.
"Have another drink, David. Try to relax. It's not as if I'm not
sympathetic to what you must be going through. Most men would rather
kill than tolerate an unfaithful wife. Yet tolerate her submission to
me is exactly what you must do. You could make it easier on yourself
by considering an alternative to nursing your angst. A woman's sexual
emancipation can be very arousing. Linda's a beautiful woman, a
seething reservoir of untapped potential. Witnessing the results when
the floodgates are pried open can be exhilarating, even life-changing,
if you'll allow it.
"Just imagine, your own lovely wife satisfied again and again by
another man - so quick to submit, then crave the taste of his
cock, and finally, the fullness of it deep inside her. I'd bet your
pulse jumps a little at the very idea. Tell me I'm wrong, if you
honestly can."
Suddenly the heat became oppressive. I was sweating. One of the bulbs
in the lamp suspended over our table flickered, then went out. The
remaining light threw sinister shadows over the face across from me.
I jumped as he slid quickly to the end of the booth and stood up.
Linda passed in front of him and settled into the bench seat again, the
flimsy cotton of her dress yielding to the subtle sway of her breasts.
Stephan took his place beside her, his shoulder pressed tightly against
hers.
"Linda, show your husband what you've done."
She turned, giving him a puzzled look.
"Your purse, my dear. Show him what you're hiding in your purse."
She placed it on the table and opened it, tilting it in my direction to
show me the contents.
"No, no, Linda. Take them out so we can see. Your husband needs proof
- so, we must give him proof."
She pulled the ball of soft material through the opening, separating
straps from lace. Bra, nylons, and finally panties, all lay in a
row beside my glass, placed there one by one as she pushed them across
the table. I reached out and lifted her bra, turning it mindlessly in
my hands. It was still warm, and smelled of her bath oil and perfume.
I looked up to meet her eyes again. She stared into me as though she
was searching for something.
"David, do you have any remaining doubts about how far your wife will
go to please me? She's sitting here beside me, naked under her little
black dress. You have the evidence in your hands. Admit it. She's
completely mine."
A flush of color spread over her face. Her blue eyes told me nothing
as I peered into them. They seemed to pierce the shadows, almost
glowing in the dim light.
"You wouldn't do this to me. You couldn't," I said unbelievingly as I
watched the curves of her body shift under the dress.
He smiled again at my response, then reached toward her, easily opening
the top button of her dress. She didn't resist. His hand dropped to
the second button, pressing it through the tiny slit as effortlessly as
the first. Then the third, and fourth. I could see the white, soft
skin of her collarbones and a hint of the valley between her breasts.
"Linda, will you do anything I ask?"
She answered in a whisper.
"Yes"
Her eyes were still locked on mine.
"Linda, expose your breasts for me."
She turned suddenly toward him. Her mouth opened as if she might
have discovered the limit to which she would willingly continue their
little game. She caught herself before uttering a sound, poised at
the edge, calculating the distance before she jumped.
"Are you refusing?"
"I - no, I'll do it."
She undid two more buttons and pulled the front of the dress open,
hoping the generous display of breast and nipples would satisfy him.
He turned toward her, placed a hand on each of her shoulders, and
slowly inched the dress over them, stopping halfway down her arms.
"Now, expose them, as I asked."
The bar was quieter now, but still echoed with the steady hum of voices
and the clatter of empty glasses. She peered around the corner of our
booth, then, with trembling fingers, coaxed each bare breast into the
light. The V formed by the remaining buttons forced them up and
outward toward me, her small pink nipples thrust forward into the dim
light.
"I know what you're thinking, David. Your wife is sitting in public,
practically naked to the waist. Anyone who happens by would certainly
get an eyeful. Will it be our handsome young waiter, or a drunken
customer who's lost his way? I'm betting on the waiter. What do you
think?"
Her face went crimson. She stared at the ice melting in her tall
glass, her creamy breasts heaving with each breath.
"Well, I'm sure you're thinking many things. So many excuses for her
behavior must be racing through your head. But before this night is
over, you will have to face the truth, the real reason she's given
herself to me for the past week. It's why she brought you here
tonight."
I expected to pay, and pay dearly for the brief affair with Joanna.
Linda had found the hand-written birthday card in the front pocket of
my suit jacket. The suggestive wording was damning enough, but it was
the picture of Joanna in the nude, sitting on my desk, cupping her
breasts with both hands with a come-hither look that told the whole
story. It was just sex - feral, spontaneous, animal sex; sex with no
strings or emotional attachment. That hadn't been much consolation to
Linda. She was devastated. She brooded for weeks, then seemed to
recover. Now this.
"I'm sorry. I know I hurt you. I'm so sorry, Linda."
It was another of many apologies. I knew that. She had ignored the
others, but this one brought an air of superiority to her. She sat up
a little straighter with shoulders back, thrusting her bare breasts
toward me.
"It hurts doesn't it? I spent weeks imagining the things you and
Joanna did together. I tortured myself, trying to find some way to get
over what you did, trying to figure out whether there would ever be a
way to forgive you, to stay with you. When I met Stephan, I knew what
I had to do. For me. For us."
I couldn't believe this was my wife sitting across from me. As she
talked, she seemed taller, almost towering over me in her seat. She
glared at me, her lips savoring the wicked satisfaction of each word.
"For us? You didn't do this for us!" I spat back at her.
Stephan casually fished a piece of ice from her glass.
"You're wrong, David. I did it for me first, but ultimately for us. I
had to make sure you knew how I felt, how much it hurt. I wanted you
to know that another man touched me in ways that made me dripping wet -
a man so beautiful, so skillful at what a woman needs, that I'd do
anything for him. So now, you 're the one who will have to imagine
what we did together. He made me do things we never did. And I liked
it - no, loved it - all of it. I couldn't get enough of him. And he
was always there - big, and hard, and - "
She stopped in mid-sentence with a sudden gasp. Stephan touched the
ice to her nipple, moving it in small circles over the rising bud of
pink flesh, then continued outward over the white mound of her breast.
Her eyes closed. Her breathing came in ragged, jerking pants.
Stephan watched her face with fascination as he turned his attention to
the other breast and nipple. After the ice melted, he rolled the
nipple softly between thumb and forefinger. The pink bud hardened
quickly, pouting at me as though she had willed it.
"Isn't she magnificent, David? So deliciously hungry. Completely lost
in her own desire. But please Linda, continue. This is your night,
your chance to tell him what you feel."
She opened her eyes, studied me for a few seconds, then turned to
Stephan. Her hand disappeared under the table, moving gently in his
lap.
"I want you to touch me Stephan. I live for the feel of your tongue
against me, wetting my belly until it's cool and slick, gliding over
the insides of my thighs until I scream for relief."
Suddenly her eyes were on me. They were filled with fire and arousal.
A droplet of water fell from her nipple, spreading into a small spot on
her dress.
"Something happens to me when I take him in my hands. He's hard for
me, well, constantly. Not just hard. Throbbing. I could play with
his cock for hours. A large juicy drop forms so quickly at the tip
right before he comes in my hands - God David, if you only knew how wet
I am just thinking about it."
She hadn't taken her eyes off me. They were eyes I no longer knew.
We sat there in silence, both trembling, for very different reasons.
Finally, Stephan ventured into the uneasy distance between us.
"Beautifully done, Linda. I'd say David should have no reason to doubt
your pain, or your sincerity. Why don't you button your dress. I
think he's seen enough."
She continued to look at me defiantly, waiting a while before pulling
the dress over her shoulders and buttoning the front.
The waiter arrived seconds later with another round of drinks. His
eyes never left the front of her dress. I was sure he could see
glimpses of soft skin between the spaces where the material opened
between the buttons. Stephan called him back just as he turned away.
"Linda, I believe you have an admirer."
I guessed he was a college student, a sandy-haired kid of about 20.
His fair skin turned bright red as he tried not gawk.
"It's OK," he assured the boy. "She's a beautiful, sexy woman. No one
could blame you for staring."
Linda glanced from the boy to me, then back again. The dress was like
wet tissue paper over her moist, distended nipples.
"I do have to keep a tight rein on her in public though, especially
when she drinks. She really has no shame at all. Do you know that
she's naked under this pretty black dress? Isn't that right, Linda?"
She smiled up at the boy, replying with a slow wink.
"He's very cute," she teased.
The waiter saw her bra and panties piled beside my glass. His
expression changed from embarrassment to hopeful amusement.
"Do you think I'm beautiful - ," she squinted at his name tag, " - um,
Chuck?"
"Yes I do. Very beautiful," he replied, smiling widely.
"Well, Chuckie, I'm not so sure my husband over there thinks so. He's
fucking his accountant, Jo-an-na. The smaaart and sexxxy Jo-an-na."
She was slurring every other word, and I could hear anger creep into
her playful banter.
"Mmmm - but Stephan thinks I'm beautiful, don't you Stephan?"
"Of course, my pet. Outstandingly, outrageously, irresistibly so."
He grinned at her, but she was still preoccupied with the waiter.
"So, Chuckie, he says he's not fuck-ing her anymore. He says it was
just sexxxx. He says he's sorrrry. Think I should believe him,
Chuckie? Whadya think?"
The kid squinted at me with a puzzled look. This was a complication he
hadn't counted on.
"Well ma'am, I really wouldn't know."
She sighed in disgust, her eyes now lowered to his obvious erection.
When she looked back up at him, the temptress had returned.
"Hmm - but don't you think that if he can fuck other women, I should be
able to fuck other men? You do think I'm fuckkk-able, don't you,
Chuckie?"
He decided a change in attitude was in order - from opportunist to
diplomat.
"Well, all I can say is that if I had a lady like you, I'd spend all my
spare time at home."
She whirled to face me, spilling her drink as her hand flashed in the
air before me, her finger wagging in my face.
"See! HE wants to fuck me! Lots of men want to fuck me! I'll bet
Chuckie could fuck me all night! And I'd love it! How do you like
that? Want to watch me suck his big, hard cock? Want to watch Chuckie
stick it in me and fuck me till I scream? Do you? Do you?"
I could hear the conversation in the next booth go suddenly silent as
she raised her voice. She leaned toward me, red-faced and wild-eyed,
as though she might actually come across the table after me. A button
popped open where her breasts strained at the front of her dress.
Crescents of firm white globes taunted me through the opening.
Stephan put a large hand on her shoulder as Chuckie made a hasty
retreat. His touch calmed her; her body seemed to recognize it
instantly. She leaned into him, eyes closed, a peaceful smile
spreading across her lips. Stephan pushed the remains of her drink to
my side of the table, then lifted her chin with two fingers.
"Feel better?"
She looked up at him with wanton eyes.
"Mmm - much. Kiss me, Stephan. Please, kiss me?"
Their lips touched, then locked together in a shameless display of
lust. She worked her mouth fiercely against his, biting, licking,
devouring him with her tongue. A second button had come undone as she
pressed against him, allowing a small pillow of milky white flesh to
push through the opening. An engorged nipple turned from pink to
angry red as it rubbed back and forth across the tweed of his jacket.
It wasn't the Linda I knew in the seat across from me. She panted
openly as she writhed against him, making little sucking noises when
her mouth broke free from his. I had been ready to take my medicine;
ready, I thought, to weather any form of revenge she might take.
But this - watching her surrender so completely to a man she praised as
"so skillful at what a woman needs" - straddled a line that might
never be recrossed. Could I feel her slipping away?
Much later, when she finally broke away from him, she collapsed against
the back of the booth, panting and wide-eyed. A third button had
opened on the front of her dress, and I could see beads of sweat
dotting the heaving inner curves of both breasts. She was staring at
me again, staring with lusty daggers.
"You - did - this," she gasped.
"I - I know I hurt you. I'm sorry - so sorry, Linda."
"You - did - this!" she repeated, this time louder as her breathing
slowed.
"OK, you win! Now I know what it feels like. It hurts - it hurts more
than I could have known. But please don't take this any further."
"You - did - this! Say it! I want to hear you say it, God damn it!"
Stephan sat expressionless beside her. His hand moved gently along her
thigh, stroking her with the tips of his broad fingers. Little by
little, he pushed the hem of the dress as high as it would go,
exposing a narrow expanse of bare thigh just visible beyond the edge of
the table. She spread her legs an extra inch and waited for my answer.
If it would put an end to this, I'd say what she wanted. I'd say
anything.
"I did this," I answered, looking solemnly into her eyes.
It seemed to satisfy her. She smiled a smile I recognized, and her
features softened.
"Yes, David, you did this. And now you have to pay."
She opened her legs as wide as the seat would allow. Stephan's hand
wandered into the crevice between them. She watched me as he played
with her, his hand hidden between tightly clenched thighs that twitched
in rhythm to his every move. Her eyes left me only after she lost all
control. She inhaled sharply as a brief shiver shook her body, then
froze for an instant as though every muscle was preparing for what was
to come. The tension melted from her as quickly as it had arrived.
She slumped back in the seat, biting her lower lip to quiet the urgent
whimpers that rose from her throat. Her hips bucked frantically
against Stephan's hand until her muted little cries died and she lay
quietly against the back of the seat.
When she opened her eyes they were drilling into me again. Yet, her
voice was softer now - the rage, pain, vengeance, all of it gone.
"Now you know, David."
I was sweating again. The room narrowed and spun like a kaleidoscope.
"Now you know just a little of what I went through for the past three
weeks - day after day of imagining you with her, how you kissed her -
night after night of wondering whether she was a better lover, and what
it was that she did for you that I couldn't - weeks of torturing myself
with images of the two of you together in bed in some cheap motel, and
what you said to her while you fucked her. Did you tell her you loved
her, David?"
I gripped the edge of the table to steady myself. It was a question
she must have wanted to ask weeks ago, a question from the heart. She
caught me off-guard, still reeling from the intimacy she lavished on the
man beside her.
"Linda, so help me, I didn't. I could never do that. Never! It was
just - "
"I know, David. Just sex. You say it as though it was nothing more
than a handshake. 'Just sex.'"
We stared at each other in silence. It was the same familiar impasse,
one we had reached weeks ago. And I had walked right into it again.
Stephan cleared his throat. He had been quiet a long time, watching us
with interest as he sipped the rest of his scotch. He spoke after a
quick glance at his watch.
"Linda, might I suggest we -"
"No, Stephan. Let me do this."
He sat back and waited for her to go on, looking slightly amused by her
evolving confidence. He might have owned her for a week, but now
she was in control, and was determined to do this her way.
"I'm going upstairs with Stephan. He has a room here at the hotel. I
want you to wait for me. All this will be over at midnight. I'll
meet you back here, and we'll go home. Do this, and we'll be even. If
you're not here when I get back, I'll leave you. It's the only way,
David - the only way I can stay with you."
She was no longer angry, but the look she gave me guaranteed she was
deadly serious. It was a final play I never could have imagined. I
wanted to protest, to beg her not to go with him. I felt the contents
of my stomach rise in my throat, and words refused to come.
"David, we're going to his room now. I'll let him do whatever he wants
with me - anything at all. He can have me any way he likes, as many
times as he likes. I'm not your wife for the next two hours, I'm his
possession - just a piece of willing flesh. It's just sex, David.
Just sex."
With that, after gathering the scraps of clothing still piled in front
of me, they slid out of the booth and stopped to face each other.
His hands were on her hips; hers caressed the lapels of his jacket.
She hadn't buttoned the front of her dress, and he was staring at her
breasts through the gaping opening. She looked up at him, saw his eyes
on her breasts, and smiled with pure lust and surrender. His hand
stroked the small of her back as they made their way across the bar,
then slid lower as they turned toward the bank of elevators and
disappeared from sight.
by Don Jetman
The lounge was crowded. It was Saturday night, and the barflies were
out in swarms. We took the booth at the end of the room, hidden
slightly from the crowd in a corner recess that hinted at false privacy.
Exactly two drinks later he settled in next to her, drooling at my wife
as he would a juicy steak.
"My God, you look delicious tonight, Linda."
My wife stared at him with wide, hungry eyes. She had finished her
second of two drinks in the time it took me to finish one. Drinking
was something she did on special occasions - our anniversary or New
Year's Eve - and I could see she was unsteady from the two whiskey
sours forced down over the past thirty minutes.
I flinched when he placed his hand on her thigh, and again when he
spoke.
"My name is Stephan. You must be David. I hear you've been a naughty
boy."
He looked across the table at me and grinned. His eyes glittered with
the promise of trouble. Linda saw him watching me and followed with a
small smile of her own.
He took her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it lightly.
"Your wife is most appreciative. I like that in a woman."
He leered at her, suggesting much more than the words that dripped from
his mouth.
Suddenly he was more business-like. He looked at me, as if to assure he
had my attention.
"Tonight you'll learn that hell really does 'hath no fury like a woman
scorned'."
"What do you mean by that?" I stammered.
"Relax, David. Your wife has decided to forgive your little
indiscretion - but only after having a go at your game herself. Look
at it as punishment, or a lesson, but either way she's decided on her
price. I'd suggest you pay it."
I shot her a questioning look, expecting her to explain. She didn't.
"So, what's this 'price' he's taking about?" I asked finally.
Her smile grew wider. She ran the tip of her finger around the rim of
her glass, brought it slowly to her mouth, and gently sucked the
moisture from it before answering. Her eyes were glassy, her
pupils large, dark wells of mystery.
"You had your fun. Now it's my turn."
She turned toward him, pulled him close, and covered his mouth with
hers. The kiss was long and deep. A minute passed, then two. She
sucked at him hungrily, her tongue wrestling with his, her hands
clutching him from behind his neck. I heard her moan softly as she
melted away from him, then faced me again with the same smile.
Stephan composed himself, took a long drink of his scotch, and sighed.
"It's been an interesting week, David - one I'll remember for a long
time to come."
"An interesting week? What does he mean?" I hissed.
She eyed me coolly, then looked straight at me as she spoke in a voice
I was afraid could be heard at the next table.
"I've given myself to Stephan. He owns me - or has, for the past week,
until midnight tonight. Your affair lasted much longer, but I thought
a week would be enough. Any longer and I might not have been able to
stop. He's handsome, strong, and very sexy - it just seemed to make
sense. I put myself in his hands - told him I'd do anything he wanted
for one week. Anything."
She looked over at him and wet her lips. His hand had edged her dress
up, and was now stroking her thigh.
"I have a request, Linda. Your husband is somewhat incredulous at this
point. I can certainly understand why. You can move things along with
a gesture of your willingness to cooperate. I'd like you to find the
ladies room, then remove whatever you're wearing under this
conservative little black dress - bra, panties, slip, nylons -
everything. Put all of it in your purse, and return to us wearing
nothing but your dress and shoes. While you're gone, David and I will
get to know each other better. Run along now. We'll be counting the
minutes..."
She left the table without a word. I had no trouble reading the mix of
fear and excitement on her face.
We sat in silence for a long time before he spoke. The waiter returned
with another round of drinks. The muzak changed from pop to classical.
Growing beads of water trickled down the side of my glass, each droplet
collapsing into the fresh paper napkin.
"If you could have only seen her the day she offered herself to me."
"She didn't offer herself to you. You'll never make me believe - "
"She went to her knees the first time I asked. I can still see her
small fingers unzipping me, fumbling with my belt. And later, again,
in the park, how her diamond sparkled in the afternoon sun."
"You lying son of a bitch."
He went on as if I hadn't said a word.
"She closed her lips around my cock, almost dutifully, as I might have
expected from your wife. She sucked me until I gave her every drop,
then swallowed all of it without complaining. I like that, too. I had
her go braless during our stroll in the park. We found a secluded spot
behind a hedge near a playground. She opened the front of her blouse
just before she blew me again. We could hear the children's laughter
as she milked me with her mouth. Her nipples hardened so quickly under
my fingertips..."
He smiled and took another sip of his drink, taking in my reaction.
"Linda wouldn't do that. I don't believe any of it!"
"I can see why you'd think that at this point. But given time, I think
you'll be surprised at what your wife is capable of. Most women are
sluts at heart. Linda is certainly no exception. She's well on her
way to proving it."
I didn't know what to think. Linda was someone I had known for ten
years, my wife, my lover, and my friend. Her attitude toward sex
wasn't puritanical, but she wasn't a woman who lowered her inhibitions
easily. His story was preposterous, or at least exaggerated in the
extreme. Yet, she was terribly hurt, full of the 'fury' he spoke of.
"Have another drink, David. Try to relax. It's not as if I'm not
sympathetic to what you must be going through. Most men would rather
kill than tolerate an unfaithful wife. Yet tolerate her submission to
me is exactly what you must do. You could make it easier on yourself
by considering an alternative to nursing your angst. A woman's sexual
emancipation can be very arousing. Linda's a beautiful woman, a
seething reservoir of untapped potential. Witnessing the results when
the floodgates are pried open can be exhilarating, even life-changing,
if you'll allow it.
"Just imagine, your own lovely wife satisfied again and again by
another man - so quick to submit, then crave the taste of his
cock, and finally, the fullness of it deep inside her. I'd bet your
pulse jumps a little at the very idea. Tell me I'm wrong, if you
honestly can."
Suddenly the heat became oppressive. I was sweating. One of the bulbs
in the lamp suspended over our table flickered, then went out. The
remaining light threw sinister shadows over the face across from me.
I jumped as he slid quickly to the end of the booth and stood up.
Linda passed in front of him and settled into the bench seat again, the
flimsy cotton of her dress yielding to the subtle sway of her breasts.
Stephan took his place beside her, his shoulder pressed tightly against
hers.
"Linda, show your husband what you've done."
She turned, giving him a puzzled look.
"Your purse, my dear. Show him what you're hiding in your purse."
She placed it on the table and opened it, tilting it in my direction to
show me the contents.
"No, no, Linda. Take them out so we can see. Your husband needs proof
- so, we must give him proof."
She pulled the ball of soft material through the opening, separating
straps from lace. Bra, nylons, and finally panties, all lay in a
row beside my glass, placed there one by one as she pushed them across
the table. I reached out and lifted her bra, turning it mindlessly in
my hands. It was still warm, and smelled of her bath oil and perfume.
I looked up to meet her eyes again. She stared into me as though she
was searching for something.
"David, do you have any remaining doubts about how far your wife will
go to please me? She's sitting here beside me, naked under her little
black dress. You have the evidence in your hands. Admit it. She's
completely mine."
A flush of color spread over her face. Her blue eyes told me nothing
as I peered into them. They seemed to pierce the shadows, almost
glowing in the dim light.
"You wouldn't do this to me. You couldn't," I said unbelievingly as I
watched the curves of her body shift under the dress.
He smiled again at my response, then reached toward her, easily opening
the top button of her dress. She didn't resist. His hand dropped to
the second button, pressing it through the tiny slit as effortlessly as
the first. Then the third, and fourth. I could see the white, soft
skin of her collarbones and a hint of the valley between her breasts.
"Linda, will you do anything I ask?"
She answered in a whisper.
"Yes"
Her eyes were still locked on mine.
"Linda, expose your breasts for me."
She turned suddenly toward him. Her mouth opened as if she might
have discovered the limit to which she would willingly continue their
little game. She caught herself before uttering a sound, poised at
the edge, calculating the distance before she jumped.
"Are you refusing?"
"I - no, I'll do it."
She undid two more buttons and pulled the front of the dress open,
hoping the generous display of breast and nipples would satisfy him.
He turned toward her, placed a hand on each of her shoulders, and
slowly inched the dress over them, stopping halfway down her arms.
"Now, expose them, as I asked."
The bar was quieter now, but still echoed with the steady hum of voices
and the clatter of empty glasses. She peered around the corner of our
booth, then, with trembling fingers, coaxed each bare breast into the
light. The V formed by the remaining buttons forced them up and
outward toward me, her small pink nipples thrust forward into the dim
light.
"I know what you're thinking, David. Your wife is sitting in public,
practically naked to the waist. Anyone who happens by would certainly
get an eyeful. Will it be our handsome young waiter, or a drunken
customer who's lost his way? I'm betting on the waiter. What do you
think?"
Her face went crimson. She stared at the ice melting in her tall
glass, her creamy breasts heaving with each breath.
"Well, I'm sure you're thinking many things. So many excuses for her
behavior must be racing through your head. But before this night is
over, you will have to face the truth, the real reason she's given
herself to me for the past week. It's why she brought you here
tonight."
I expected to pay, and pay dearly for the brief affair with Joanna.
Linda had found the hand-written birthday card in the front pocket of
my suit jacket. The suggestive wording was damning enough, but it was
the picture of Joanna in the nude, sitting on my desk, cupping her
breasts with both hands with a come-hither look that told the whole
story. It was just sex - feral, spontaneous, animal sex; sex with no
strings or emotional attachment. That hadn't been much consolation to
Linda. She was devastated. She brooded for weeks, then seemed to
recover. Now this.
"I'm sorry. I know I hurt you. I'm so sorry, Linda."
It was another of many apologies. I knew that. She had ignored the
others, but this one brought an air of superiority to her. She sat up
a little straighter with shoulders back, thrusting her bare breasts
toward me.
"It hurts doesn't it? I spent weeks imagining the things you and
Joanna did together. I tortured myself, trying to find some way to get
over what you did, trying to figure out whether there would ever be a
way to forgive you, to stay with you. When I met Stephan, I knew what
I had to do. For me. For us."
I couldn't believe this was my wife sitting across from me. As she
talked, she seemed taller, almost towering over me in her seat. She
glared at me, her lips savoring the wicked satisfaction of each word.
"For us? You didn't do this for us!" I spat back at her.
Stephan casually fished a piece of ice from her glass.
"You're wrong, David. I did it for me first, but ultimately for us. I
had to make sure you knew how I felt, how much it hurt. I wanted you
to know that another man touched me in ways that made me dripping wet -
a man so beautiful, so skillful at what a woman needs, that I'd do
anything for him. So now, you 're the one who will have to imagine
what we did together. He made me do things we never did. And I liked
it - no, loved it - all of it. I couldn't get enough of him. And he
was always there - big, and hard, and - "
She stopped in mid-sentence with a sudden gasp. Stephan touched the
ice to her nipple, moving it in small circles over the rising bud of
pink flesh, then continued outward over the white mound of her breast.
Her eyes closed. Her breathing came in ragged, jerking pants.
Stephan watched her face with fascination as he turned his attention to
the other breast and nipple. After the ice melted, he rolled the
nipple softly between thumb and forefinger. The pink bud hardened
quickly, pouting at me as though she had willed it.
"Isn't she magnificent, David? So deliciously hungry. Completely lost
in her own desire. But please Linda, continue. This is your night,
your chance to tell him what you feel."
She opened her eyes, studied me for a few seconds, then turned to
Stephan. Her hand disappeared under the table, moving gently in his
lap.
"I want you to touch me Stephan. I live for the feel of your tongue
against me, wetting my belly until it's cool and slick, gliding over
the insides of my thighs until I scream for relief."
Suddenly her eyes were on me. They were filled with fire and arousal.
A droplet of water fell from her nipple, spreading into a small spot on
her dress.
"Something happens to me when I take him in my hands. He's hard for
me, well, constantly. Not just hard. Throbbing. I could play with
his cock for hours. A large juicy drop forms so quickly at the tip
right before he comes in my hands - God David, if you only knew how wet
I am just thinking about it."
She hadn't taken her eyes off me. They were eyes I no longer knew.
We sat there in silence, both trembling, for very different reasons.
Finally, Stephan ventured into the uneasy distance between us.
"Beautifully done, Linda. I'd say David should have no reason to doubt
your pain, or your sincerity. Why don't you button your dress. I
think he's seen enough."
She continued to look at me defiantly, waiting a while before pulling
the dress over her shoulders and buttoning the front.
The waiter arrived seconds later with another round of drinks. His
eyes never left the front of her dress. I was sure he could see
glimpses of soft skin between the spaces where the material opened
between the buttons. Stephan called him back just as he turned away.
"Linda, I believe you have an admirer."
I guessed he was a college student, a sandy-haired kid of about 20.
His fair skin turned bright red as he tried not gawk.
"It's OK," he assured the boy. "She's a beautiful, sexy woman. No one
could blame you for staring."
Linda glanced from the boy to me, then back again. The dress was like
wet tissue paper over her moist, distended nipples.
"I do have to keep a tight rein on her in public though, especially
when she drinks. She really has no shame at all. Do you know that
she's naked under this pretty black dress? Isn't that right, Linda?"
She smiled up at the boy, replying with a slow wink.
"He's very cute," she teased.
The waiter saw her bra and panties piled beside my glass. His
expression changed from embarrassment to hopeful amusement.
"Do you think I'm beautiful - ," she squinted at his name tag, " - um,
Chuck?"
"Yes I do. Very beautiful," he replied, smiling widely.
"Well, Chuckie, I'm not so sure my husband over there thinks so. He's
fucking his accountant, Jo-an-na. The smaaart and sexxxy Jo-an-na."
She was slurring every other word, and I could hear anger creep into
her playful banter.
"Mmmm - but Stephan thinks I'm beautiful, don't you Stephan?"
"Of course, my pet. Outstandingly, outrageously, irresistibly so."
He grinned at her, but she was still preoccupied with the waiter.
"So, Chuckie, he says he's not fuck-ing her anymore. He says it was
just sexxxx. He says he's sorrrry. Think I should believe him,
Chuckie? Whadya think?"
The kid squinted at me with a puzzled look. This was a complication he
hadn't counted on.
"Well ma'am, I really wouldn't know."
She sighed in disgust, her eyes now lowered to his obvious erection.
When she looked back up at him, the temptress had returned.
"Hmm - but don't you think that if he can fuck other women, I should be
able to fuck other men? You do think I'm fuckkk-able, don't you,
Chuckie?"
He decided a change in attitude was in order - from opportunist to
diplomat.
"Well, all I can say is that if I had a lady like you, I'd spend all my
spare time at home."
She whirled to face me, spilling her drink as her hand flashed in the
air before me, her finger wagging in my face.
"See! HE wants to fuck me! Lots of men want to fuck me! I'll bet
Chuckie could fuck me all night! And I'd love it! How do you like
that? Want to watch me suck his big, hard cock? Want to watch Chuckie
stick it in me and fuck me till I scream? Do you? Do you?"
I could hear the conversation in the next booth go suddenly silent as
she raised her voice. She leaned toward me, red-faced and wild-eyed,
as though she might actually come across the table after me. A button
popped open where her breasts strained at the front of her dress.
Crescents of firm white globes taunted me through the opening.
Stephan put a large hand on her shoulder as Chuckie made a hasty
retreat. His touch calmed her; her body seemed to recognize it
instantly. She leaned into him, eyes closed, a peaceful smile
spreading across her lips. Stephan pushed the remains of her drink to
my side of the table, then lifted her chin with two fingers.
"Feel better?"
She looked up at him with wanton eyes.
"Mmm - much. Kiss me, Stephan. Please, kiss me?"
Their lips touched, then locked together in a shameless display of
lust. She worked her mouth fiercely against his, biting, licking,
devouring him with her tongue. A second button had come undone as she
pressed against him, allowing a small pillow of milky white flesh to
push through the opening. An engorged nipple turned from pink to
angry red as it rubbed back and forth across the tweed of his jacket.
It wasn't the Linda I knew in the seat across from me. She panted
openly as she writhed against him, making little sucking noises when
her mouth broke free from his. I had been ready to take my medicine;
ready, I thought, to weather any form of revenge she might take.
But this - watching her surrender so completely to a man she praised as
"so skillful at what a woman needs" - straddled a line that might
never be recrossed. Could I feel her slipping away?
Much later, when she finally broke away from him, she collapsed against
the back of the booth, panting and wide-eyed. A third button had
opened on the front of her dress, and I could see beads of sweat
dotting the heaving inner curves of both breasts. She was staring at
me again, staring with lusty daggers.
"You - did - this," she gasped.
"I - I know I hurt you. I'm sorry - so sorry, Linda."
"You - did - this!" she repeated, this time louder as her breathing
slowed.
"OK, you win! Now I know what it feels like. It hurts - it hurts more
than I could have known. But please don't take this any further."
"You - did - this! Say it! I want to hear you say it, God damn it!"
Stephan sat expressionless beside her. His hand moved gently along her
thigh, stroking her with the tips of his broad fingers. Little by
little, he pushed the hem of the dress as high as it would go,
exposing a narrow expanse of bare thigh just visible beyond the edge of
the table. She spread her legs an extra inch and waited for my answer.
If it would put an end to this, I'd say what she wanted. I'd say
anything.
"I did this," I answered, looking solemnly into her eyes.
It seemed to satisfy her. She smiled a smile I recognized, and her
features softened.
"Yes, David, you did this. And now you have to pay."
She opened her legs as wide as the seat would allow. Stephan's hand
wandered into the crevice between them. She watched me as he played
with her, his hand hidden between tightly clenched thighs that twitched
in rhythm to his every move. Her eyes left me only after she lost all
control. She inhaled sharply as a brief shiver shook her body, then
froze for an instant as though every muscle was preparing for what was
to come. The tension melted from her as quickly as it had arrived.
She slumped back in the seat, biting her lower lip to quiet the urgent
whimpers that rose from her throat. Her hips bucked frantically
against Stephan's hand until her muted little cries died and she lay
quietly against the back of the seat.
When she opened her eyes they were drilling into me again. Yet, her
voice was softer now - the rage, pain, vengeance, all of it gone.
"Now you know, David."
I was sweating again. The room narrowed and spun like a kaleidoscope.
"Now you know just a little of what I went through for the past three
weeks - day after day of imagining you with her, how you kissed her -
night after night of wondering whether she was a better lover, and what
it was that she did for you that I couldn't - weeks of torturing myself
with images of the two of you together in bed in some cheap motel, and
what you said to her while you fucked her. Did you tell her you loved
her, David?"
I gripped the edge of the table to steady myself. It was a question
she must have wanted to ask weeks ago, a question from the heart. She
caught me off-guard, still reeling from the intimacy she lavished on the
man beside her.
"Linda, so help me, I didn't. I could never do that. Never! It was
just - "
"I know, David. Just sex. You say it as though it was nothing more
than a handshake. 'Just sex.'"
We stared at each other in silence. It was the same familiar impasse,
one we had reached weeks ago. And I had walked right into it again.
Stephan cleared his throat. He had been quiet a long time, watching us
with interest as he sipped the rest of his scotch. He spoke after a
quick glance at his watch.
"Linda, might I suggest we -"
"No, Stephan. Let me do this."
He sat back and waited for her to go on, looking slightly amused by her
evolving confidence. He might have owned her for a week, but now
she was in control, and was determined to do this her way.
"I'm going upstairs with Stephan. He has a room here at the hotel. I
want you to wait for me. All this will be over at midnight. I'll
meet you back here, and we'll go home. Do this, and we'll be even. If
you're not here when I get back, I'll leave you. It's the only way,
David - the only way I can stay with you."
She was no longer angry, but the look she gave me guaranteed she was
deadly serious. It was a final play I never could have imagined. I
wanted to protest, to beg her not to go with him. I felt the contents
of my stomach rise in my throat, and words refused to come.
"David, we're going to his room now. I'll let him do whatever he wants
with me - anything at all. He can have me any way he likes, as many
times as he likes. I'm not your wife for the next two hours, I'm his
possession - just a piece of willing flesh. It's just sex, David.
Just sex."
With that, after gathering the scraps of clothing still piled in front
of me, they slid out of the booth and stopped to face each other.
His hands were on her hips; hers caressed the lapels of his jacket.
She hadn't buttoned the front of her dress, and he was staring at her
breasts through the gaping opening. She looked up at him, saw his eyes
on her breasts, and smiled with pure lust and surrender. His hand
stroked the small of her back as they made their way across the bar,
then slid lower as they turned toward the bank of elevators and
disappeared from sight.