When I was twenty, I worked at a really trendy restaurant. It was pretty big: it also functioned as an in-house catering facility for companies and such.
I was lucky enough to have a job there when I was working my way through college. And by lucky I don’t really mean that the work was so awesome or the pay so great, though both were fine. What I mean is that the employees were basically made up of two groups. There was the “established” (cooks, management) in their thirties and forties. Then there was the “help”, which consisted of college students putting in their time. Of the latter group, I was one of two guys with the rest all female.
To sweeten the deal, the girls ranged from cute to drop-dead gorgeous. Even luckier (for me, at least), was that the other fellow accidentally sliced his hand one day on the job and, for sanitation and convenience, was let go.
For the sake of clarity, I will only describe two of the girls that worked there with me. The first was Jennifer. She was a class-act girl and very pretty. I would say on average among men, she would score an eight, eight and a half outta ten. She would typically turn heads when she walked into the room, but she wasn’t the type to openly flaunt her sexuality.
The other girl was Monica. This was one of those girls that makes a man hurt with desire. I’d say for looks, she easily scores a nine. But then you factor in her personality, she shoots off the scale. And by personality I’m not trying to say she’s got the soul of an angel to go with her looks. On the contrary, she was a little devil. She had to be the most charismatic and seductive female in town. I mean, this girl just oozed sensuality in everything she did, even when she wasn’t trying. And what’s worse for all of us, is that she knew it.
Now working with these beauties was a real treat for me. Naturally when I first met Monica, it was lust at first sight. I also realized very quickly that she was out of my league. Shortly thereafter I realized that a man would have to be insane to go with her as she would surely manipulate the best of them to be putty in her hands. Was I friends with her? Sure. Did we flirt from time to time? Yeah. But I never tried anything with her and she returned the favor.
Meanwhile, I did enter into a relationship with Jennifer. We tried to keep it low-key as we didn’t want any flak from our co-workers. Eventually everybody found out about it, but it wasn’t a big deal because we kept the affection out of the workplace. This, however, is when trouble started brewing.
See, once Monica found out I was seeing somebody, my stock soared in her eyes. Now I was something worthy of being conquered. When I was single, I was no big deal. When I was with another girl? (And such a looking girl at that?) Well then, that sounded like fun to Monica. Here was a girl who liked to break men just because she could. I don’t think she was really out to hurt anybody per se, but she was definitely just thinking about her own vanity and pleasure.
So as time goes on, she starts to turn up the heat with me. She flirts with me a lot more, brushes up against me, always finds excuses to be working on something with or near me. At first I don’t really make anything of it. I’m just a man, right? I enjoy the attention. But I was naïve enough to think it was no big thing.
My girlfriend Jennifer obviously saw things differently. She saw Monica moving in on her territory and hated it with a passion. She knew Monica was a stone-cold fox. She knew Monica could seduce a dead man to life. So she communicated to me in so many words that she would appreciate it if I didn’t let Monica flirt her way around me. I of course tried to joke it off and assure her she was just being paranoid. I never made a move for her before, why would I now when I have you? This put her at ease somewhat, but we both knew deep down she was still uncomfortable with the situation.
That was the state of affairs for awhile. Monica would flirt her best with me; not too over-the-top but enough to flatter and stimulate me. Jennifer would notice and hate it. I would try to play down Monica’s advances and show extra interest to Jennifer (especially in front of Monica) to establish that I was a taken man. This, however, proved to be a difficult exercise as Monica did not let up, and Jennifer became colder to me at work to show her displeasure.
I have to admit that, although up to this point I had fantasized about Monica as much as any guy would during my “alone” time, I was otherwise still in control of my wandering thoughts. Now, however, I started thinking about her more. The worst part was after work, when out with my girlfriend, she would bring up the topic. “God, I wish Monica would just lay off you. She thinks she’s so hot, flirting with every guy just because she can.” Under normal circumstances I would agree in both word and heart with her, thinking that that type of girl was contemptible. But now, even at the mention of Monica’s name (and especially when Jennifer said it), I could feel my cock jump and the blood burn in my face.
This was particularly bad at times. Jennifer, in her jealousy, would rant, “Fuck, I wish I looked more like Monica! She’s got that hot little body with big tits that every guy drools over.” Well, yeah, she was telling the truth. As I said, Jennifer’s body was great; but so was Monica’s. And hearing her remind me of how fantastic it was definitely did not help the situation. Although I would try to say, “Settle down, you’re blowing things out of proportion. I see guys ogling you all the time…” It didn’t always work, and I would often betray a sheepish smile at the mention of Monica’s hot body. Then she would blurt out, “See! I knew you think she’s hot! Why don’t you go fuck her if that’s all you think about!” and then the night would be ruined as it devolved into a hopeless fight.
Her envy for Monica only served to exacerbate the situation. As they say, we want what we can’t have. Well, I already couldn’t have Monica, and now I couldn’t have her “worse”. She became my girlfriend’s rival, which only added to her forbidden allure. Jennifer’s insecurity and constant bitching about Monica was having the opposite effect of making her seem ever more attractive.
Still, through all this, Jennifer and I did have a good relationship. Besides the “Monica” issue, we got along famously and were a great couple. It is for this reason that we both put up with the growing tension between us. It is also for this reason that I continued to decline Monica’s advances (along with the reason that, by this point, I knew she was just trying to conquer me for sport).
I thought I was doing pretty well, all things considered. But one day, things took a turn. I had gone without sex, going on two weeks, due to the back-to-back disasters of Jennifer’s period and a follow-up cold. Now I realize this is not that long, but I’d like to remind you that I was a twenty-year old guy, getting it on a regular basis, and working in an environment that was “sexually charged” to say the least. This in itself was not a disaster, but what happened next was.
I had to bring a huge crate of extra dishes down to the storeroom. This was a room down a long winding hall and locked at all times (this detail is important). I was also told that I needed to bring back a few boxes of extra silverware. Carrying the crate in both hands, I backed out through the doorway and into the hall to fulfill the order. At the last minute, Monica chimed in that she would come with me and help bring back the silverware.
My heart both jumped in my throat in joy and sunk in despair. This was the duality of my dealings with Monica. Part of me craved her attention and affection. The other part of me feared it immensely. Lately it was even worse, due to the aforementioned dry spell. And what would a seductress be if she didn’t have a sixth sense to notice that kind of thing? You can bet your bottom dollar she turned up the heat on her overtures.
So we’re walking down the hall, me lugging this huge crate and her skipping along in front and beside me. She does that half-backwards walk that lets her face me as we go down the hall, forcing me to look at her. I know she’s doing this so I check her out, and I know she’s moving in that subtle way that is sexy but not flat-out pornographic. I’ve seen this a lot and I can handle it, although I admit I was getting hard.
Then she cheats. She breathes, “Man it is hot today!” and grabs the bottom of her shirt. She pulls it up and wipes her forehead with it, revealing her long, flat stomach and most of her wonderful tits, resting perfectly in a little bra. She makes sure I got a good, long look before she pulls it back down. I realize I’m still staring and shake my head away. My face goes red with embarrassment and I don’t say anything.
“You look flustered too!” she smiles.
We get to the storeroom (the journey seemed to take forever). As I am still holding the crate, I give a glance to her and to the door, silently asking her to unlock and open it. She checks her pockets and gives me a bullshit astonished look, “Oops! I forgot my key. Do you have yours?”
I roll my eyes, “Yeah, in my pocket,” and I start to move to put the crate down.
“Don’t stress yourself, I’ll get it!”
I honestly did not intend for that to happen.
Within a second she is behind me, pressing her body up against my back. Her hands slide into both my pant pockets. I was wearing loose slacks, so she had a lot of room to slip inside. The material was not particularly thick (compared to, say, denim jeans). Feeling her hands on the inside of my thighs with seemingly so thin a barrier was electrifying. I was already hard before, but this was too much. Her body on mine and her hands so close to my cock made me so hard it ached.
Regaining some composure, I gulped, “Th-that’s fine. I will get it…”
But it was no use. “Why? I’ll get it, relax…”
Her hands continued to feel about in my pockets. I felt her grab the key and thought, good, get out, please. I was beet red with embarrassment. Don’t touch my cock, you’ve had your fun, this isn’t right. But my wishes were unanswered. I sensed she let go of the key and, the next thing I knew, felt her right hand stroke against my hard-on through my pants and boxers. “Oh my!” she flirted coyly.
She moved her left hand to the base, between my cock and thigh, and lightly pressed down. This had the effect of both feeling amazing and pushing my hardness up further. That, in turn, gave her better access to stroke it with her right hand. “No wonder you looked so flustered! What has gotten you all worked up?” she feigned innocence.
“M-Monica… Stop. Just take the key, please.”
“What’s wrong? Am I hurting you?”
“No you’re- you’re not hurting me… just, come on, cut it out.”
“Mmm, but you seem to be enjoying it. Jennifer is a lucky girl to have such big man!”
The mention of my girlfriend made me swallow hard. I was paralyzed. Still holding the crate against my chest with both hands, and with her body to my back, I couldn’t just push her away. I probably could have done some maneuver to twist around, take a step away from her, something. But I did nothing. I let her continue, hoping she would be the one to stop, and secretly not knowing if I wanted her to.
“Please,” I said, “This is wrong…”
“If it was wrong, then you wouldn’t be so excited, would you?”
She was working magic with her hands. A hand job never felt so good in my life, and this girl was doing it through my clothes! I was in some kind of twisted heaven.
“Doesn’t Jennifer take care of you? If you were my boyfriend, I would always make sure you were satisfied…”
“No she- I mean yes, I- Damn it, this is wrong…” I was stuttering. Was I trying to tell her that? Was I trying to convince myself?
“You already said that, baby. Mmm… maybe it being wrong is what makes it hot?”
At those words, even more blood surged to my cock. It was pulsing with my heartbeat. Fuck if I was never so turned on in my life. “Ah- shit, I…”
“Oh! You like that? I always thought you were a good, faithful boy. But you want to be bad? Is that what gets you off? Does… Jennifer know this, or is it our little secret?”
My mind was spinning. She was turning me on so bad, and she knew it. I could feel the rush between my legs and I knew I couldn’t last much longer. She was going to make me come. For some stupid reason, I told her that, “M-Monica, I’m gonna- Stop, I’m gonna come.”
“Yeah, you are. You’re so bad. You’re gonna let me get you off right here. Your girlfriend is just down the hall, and you’re letting me jack you off. I bet she thinks I’m such a slut, but who’s giving it up right now?”
She was right. I knew she was right. This was so wrong, I knew it was, and that steamed me up so much worse. She kept stroking me. My breathing quickened and I grunted, “Oh fuck!” And then I came. The first jolt shook me so hard that my knees buckled a little. Monica held on fast, wrapping her arms tighter around my waist and holding me as she continued to pump my cock. I continued to spray cum in my boxers while helplessly clutching the crate.
Eventually I slowed down and regained some composure. Her hard stroking relaxed into a gentle caress as I grew limp. I then felt her hands slip out of my pocket and her body move away from mine. Realizing my eyes were clenched shut from my orgasm, I opened them to see her standing in front of me with a wide, satisfied smile. Holding the key up to her face, she chirped “Got it!”
She unlocked the storeroom door and we went inside. I finally put the crate down on a shelf and leaned on it, hunched over in a state of disbelief. “I can’t believe… That was…”
“Wrong?” she seductively interjected.
That snapped me out of my reverie. “Yeah. Yeah, Monica, I mean, why? If Jennifer knew-”
“If she knew what? That her boyfriend let me fondle his cock until he couldn’t help himself and blow his load into his pants?”
I was again crimson with both embarrassment and anger.
“Look,” she said flatly, “You wanted it.” Her face softened, “What’s the big deal? You don’t have to tell her… and I won’t tell her either… as long as you remember one thing.”
I blinked in confusion. “Remember what?”
“Remember, I made you come. Now you owe me one.”
My eyes popped wide in bewilderment.
She laughed. “Settle down. I don’t want it right now. But soon. And when I want it, I think you’ll want to give it to me. After all, you wouldn’t want to disappoint me, right?” She batted her eyes. “Cause then I might have to tell your little girlfriend what happened here today…”
My chest tightened and I clenched my jaw. What could I say? I was hot with shame. She turned around and picked up one of the boxes of silverware we originally came to get. “Here, hold this” she directed at me, “in front of your… mess.”
Dread swelled up inside of me as I realized what she was referring to. I looked down and, of course, my pants were soaked. How the hell was I going to hide this?
“Nobody will notice if you have this in front of you. When we go into the kitchen, I’ll grab the dishwasher hose and make like I’m washing something. You stand next to me, then I’ll accidentally spray you. Voilà you’re clear.”
She said all of this so matter-of-factly, like it was everyday conversation. How did she come up with that idea? Was she planning it all along? Did she find herself in these situations often? I thought the idea was a bit far-fetched but I was in no condition to be thinking very clearly anyway, so it sounded like a good enough idea. “Okay.”
Grinning as she turned around, she bent over to pick up another box off the floor. She made sure to go slowly and give me a protracted look at her perfect ass. I stared like an idiot, just like she wanted, and actually felt myself start to get hard again. At least I was holding that box which hid it from her. Maybe I can deny her that little bit of satisfaction.
She effortlessly took up a nonchalant position and we started back for the kitchen. Everyone was busy, so nobody really noticed us come back. Before I put the box down, I began to panic. What if she didn’t go to the sink? What if she wanted to toy with me and see how I would solve the problem myself? To my relief, she moved straight for the sink and started rinsing out some bowls. I put down the box and tried to casually walk up and reach over, as if I needed something from the shelf overhead.
With a little yelp, she jumped backwards and pretended like I surprised her. Still holding the hose, she deftly turned to me and sprayed my waist and abdomen before turning it off. “God! Sorry, you scared me! Ah, I totally soaked you, crap!”
This caught the attention of the entire kitchen and they looked. “Stop scaring the staff!” one of the chefs said, and everyone had a good laugh. I laughed too, in nervous relief, but quickly stopped when I looked into Monica’s eyes to see a very clear “you’re welcome” in her eyes.
I was confused. At first I felt gratitude towards her and smiled my thanks. As I walked away to get some towels to try and dry myself off, I realized, why am I thanking her? She put me in this mess in the first place… I was drying myself off, lost in thought, when Jennifer approached me.
“You sure took your time getting that silverware.”
I mumbled some bullshit excuse about the storeroom being packed and having to move a bunch of stuff out of the way so we could get what we wanted.
“Uh huh.” She wasn’t impressed.
The excitement settled down after that. I went back to work, trying to mind my own business. Jennifer avoided me, clearly expressing her irritation. Monica didn’t make any attempt to either be near or stay away from me. She acted like nothing unusual had happened. But then again, she could play off anything. The only comment she made in passing, very quietly and subtly, was, “I’m looking forward to next time, when you get me all wet.”
I pretended like I didn’t hear her. I tried my best to make no change in expression, to just keep doing what I was doing. But I felt my face grow hot and my cock stir. When I looked up at her walking away, she managed to turn and catch me eyeing her. How does she do that? She gave me a wink and a seductive smirk that was gone as quick as it appeared.
That night, back at my place, I was lying on my bed, arguing with Jennifer on the phone. As I knew would happen, she was grilling me about the time in the hallway. Was she flirting with you again? Was she trying to show off? No, Jennifer, nothing happened. Stop overreacting, we just got some silverware, I told you. This cumulated in her fear that, did she try to kiss you?
I actually let out a laugh, “Ridiculous!” I laughed both because it seemed her biggest fear was something so minor, and because what actually happened was so outrageously worse. Eventually she finally dropped the subject, and shortly thereafter the phone call ended.
I let out a deep sigh. What a fucking day. At this point I honestly didn’t know what to make of it. The whole ordeal seemed like a dream. How could something like that possibly happen? I played the scenario over and over in my mind. Why did I let it happen? I could have done something, but I didn’t. I let her play with me however she wanted.
I was absentmindedly playing with myself now. Then I started to think about the things she said. How it was so wrong, and how she was practically mocking Jennifer. My feelings were so jumbled up. That really pissed me off, but I couldn’t deny that it had obviously turned me on even more. God, she was so fucking arrogant. I was stroking myself harder then. That fuckin’ bitch is so hot and she knows it.
I closed my eyes and pictured her. Everything she did just exuded confidence and sensuality. I imagined her hands on my cock again. This was so wrong. I should be pissed off. I shouldn’t be playing it over in my mind, fantasizing about it. Jennifer would be so livid if she knew. God, I’m a mess. I’m so horny. This is wrong.
Then I heard Monica’s voice in my head, repeating what she said earlier: maybe it being wrong is what makes it hot?
I grit my teeth and came again for the day. Then I fell asleep.
It had been a couple of weeks since my encounter with Monica. When we shared the same shifts at work, I found myself to be a mess. I was constantly anxious, wondering if she was going to bring it up, or worse, call up my “debt” to her. But she didn’t. She continued to merely flirt with me and tease me mercilessly.
I became victim to her constantly brushing up against me. When someone may have noticed, she always did something harmless like her hand on the small of my back. Sometimes she would squeeze between me and a counter. When she faced me, she pressed her tits into my chest, staring me dead in the eyes. Other times she had her back to me, and pressed her ass into my cock. Without fail, and despite my reluctance, I would be hard whenever she did it. Once, when I was going down a hall and she coming up it, she blatantly reached out and ran her hand down the front of my pants, grabbing lightly. I stopped dead in my tracks and she cooed, “Does he miss me?” Before I could say anything, her hand would gone and she would continue walking, knowing I was helpless to her wiles.
I tried to tell myself that what had happened those weeks ago was a fluke. She had gotten me off; she knew she could, so I was already a done deal to her. Sure she teased me about it, but that was just because we were around each other. She had had her fun, so she wouldn’t need to act on me anymore. I’m not sure how much I actually convinced myself of that though.
I was wracked with guilt over the whole thing. All this time, Jennifer was paranoid that Monica would seduce me. Well, she practically did. On one hand, I hated myself for letting it happen. But I hated more that I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I thought about it constantly. I jerked off thinking about it all the time. When Jennifer would start up an argument about Monica, I would become more exacerbated. I even started to blame her, thinking that if she didn’t complain so much, maybe Monica wouldn’t seem so captivating. I just wanted to shout, “Every time you bring her up, you realize you make me think about her? Is that what you want?” But of course I didn’t.
I felt a kind of relief on the days I worked when Monica didn’t. I could relax; no need to worry about her trying to rile me up, or worse, make me return her “favor”. However, I was also ashamed to admit that I missed her as well. What was my problem? As much as I hated her tantalizations, I found that I craved them when they weren’t there.
Not all days were bad though. Sometimes when she wasn’t there, she didn’t infest my thoughts and things went well. One day in particular was going really nicely. Jennifer and I were working on some things together and, for once, she wasn’t avoiding me on the job as she usually does. She was in a good mood and, with Monica absent for the day, downright cheerful. This was the Jennifer that I loved to spend time with. Of course it was that day that Monica had to show up anyway. As if she knew.
“Hey everybody!” she sang at the doorway into the kitchen. Everyone turned to greet her. Apparently she had some family from out-of-state visiting her and she thought she would bring them to her restaurant to sample the food. She said this all in that enigmatic way she says everything which flattered the chefs and showed her to be such a sweetheart.
I didn’t really pay much attention to what she was saying though. As she was a guest today, she was wearing her personal clothes. It was the warmer season, so she wore a loose skirt. It was long enough to avoid being slutty, but short enough (above the knees a bit) to still be very provocative. It showed off her long, smooth, tan legs perfectly, all the way down to an innocuous pair of sandals. She was wearing one of those shirts that show off a bit of cleavage and all of the shoulders, somehow clinging onto her by her arms and breasts. In short, she looked absolutely amazing; somehow managing to carry off this look as not particularly scandalous, perhaps just cute… yet knowing she looked like a goddamn bombshell.
She chatted up the kitchen for a little while longer, not paying me any particular attention, and went back out to rejoin her family. “I bet you liked that look,” I heard Jennifer mutter, annoyed. I rolled my eyes and attempted to make her feel foolish, as if she was overreacting. But I knew deep down that I would be stroking myself off to her image in that skirt the next time I had a chance.
Things went on uneventfully for an hour or so after that. I decided to hit up the employee’s restroom to take a leak. On my way out to the hall, I noticed Monica introducing her family to her co-workers in the kitchen. Dodged that bullet, I guess.
In the restroom, I let out a deep sigh and tried to clear my head. Maybe I’ll just take my time in here, wait a few minutes, and then she will be gone. No need to tempt fate and have Jennifer get pissed off again. I moved to wash my hands and did so very deliberately and slowly, focusing on the water running over my skin. I heard the door open behind me and didn’t think anything of it. “So this is where you’re hiding!”
I looked up and saw Monica in the mirror, smiling like a Cheshire cat. She walked up and stood behind me, wrapped her arms around my stomach, and pulled close against me. “You weren’t trying to avoid me, were you?” she pouted. The feeling of her pressed up against my back, arms around me, immediately reminded me of our encounter by the storeroom. I swallowed hard.
I tried to be nonchalant: “I think you took the wrong door.”
She giggled, “I don’t think so. I was looking for you!” She used her arms to turn me so I faced her. Looking me up and down, she smiled even bigger when she saw the tent in my pants. “Nice to see him again!”
I flushed red and shrugged. No witty comeback came to me. I even had a stupid little grin on my face. But that was wiped off my face when, in a little girl’s voice, she said, “I’d like to cash in for my prize, sir.”
I stuttered. “Um… Your uh- your family is waiting for you…”
“Oh, don’t worry about them. Uncle Jim is a freak for food. He will chat up recipes for a half hour before they know what hit them!”
“What do you- I uh- Monica, I can’t… I mean, you know, Jennifer…”
Her smile briefly faded from her face, but then returned seductively. “You” she said, pointing her finger at me and poking my chest, “owe me one. And something tells me you didn’t forget our little adventure.”
My mind was reeling for excuses. “Well, look, anybody could just walk in here!”
“Aw, that’s cute… you’re shy!” God, she could be so patronizing. But it still affected me. She grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me into a stall. Shutting and locking the door, she leaned her back against it. “There, now we’re all alone!”
I just stared into her eyes. I already felt defeated. What was she going to do to me? What was she going to try and make me do? Part of me thought about pushing her out of the way and storming out of the restroom. But I knew I couldn’t do that. For one, she might take it out on me and tell Jennifer everything. Also, deep down, I was trembling in anticipation.
“You know,” she said softly, “I saw you staring at my legs when I first came in today. Do you like my skirt?” She ran her hands down the fabric of her skirt and when reaching the bottom, slightly pulled it up to reveal more of her legs.
“Yeah it’s uh- it’s nice.”
“I thought you might like it. I love skirts. I think they’re sexy. I have shorter ones at home… maybe I can show them to you sometime! Would you like that?”
I was transfixed, staring at her hands running along her legs. She moved so effortlessly yet drove me to such arousal.
“What, cat got your tongue? Does Jennifer not ever wear skirts for you?”
“She- she wears them sometimes, yeah…”
“Hmm,” she mused, “Tell me. Do you like me in a skirt more?”
My heart skipped a bit. The nerve of this bitch to try and play me against my own girlfriend. Yet gazing at her thighs, watching her run her fingers along them, I was stunned to hear myself admit, “Yeah…”
Monica gasped with pleasure. “Oh my god! You are SO bad! I can’t believe you actually said that… Wow… That is awful…” She lifted her hands and put them on my shoulders. I looked back up into her eyes. “I liked that.” Then she pushed me down and guided me to my knees.
I didn’t put up any fight. I kneeled down willingly and placed my hands on her legs, running up her thighs. She pulled up her skirt further and revealed a pair of lacy, light blue panties. “Take them off,” she directed. I tentatively grabbed onto them and slowly pulled them down, revealing her beautiful pussy. She wasn’t completely shaven; there was a little patch resting above her slit. There weren’t even any tan lines. It was perfect. She lifted one foot, then another, letting me completely remove the panties from her legs.
I was breathing hard. She pulled up her skirt more and bunched it up around her waist. Then, leaning against the stall door, she lifted her right leg and wrapped it around my left shoulder. Her right hand held the back of my head and gently guided me to her waiting pussy. I could smell her arousal; she was definitely wet already.
I wrapped my left arm around the leg she rested on me, and ran my right hand along her other leg and cupped her bare ass. Then, closing my eyes, I slowly leaned into her and began to lick delicately along her slit. She gave a soft moan immediately upon my tongue’s contact. Her fingers on the back of my head clenched a little, scratching into my neck. This only encouraged me to lap at her with more enthusiasm.
She continued to moan, occasionally trying to stifle little yelps by biting her lower lip. At some point she decided to start talking to me while I worked away on her. “Jesus you’re- ah- you’re good… Do you eat out your girlfriend like this? No wonder she- oh!- she puts up with you drooling over me all the time! First your thick cock- ah yeah- now a great tongue too- ah fuck!”
Her disparaging mention of Jennifer aggravated me, and I dug my nails into her ass with my right hand. Yet at the same time, it filled me with lust, and I licked and sucked her pussy the best I could. She could sense my reactions.
“Oh baby, you- ah- you like it when I talk about her? God that’s so- mmm- so wrong! Eating another slut out while she- ah- she talks about- ohhh!”
I had slapped her ass, out of animalistic heat to both shut her up and spur her on.
“Fuck yeah! You eat pussy so goddamn- ah- so goddamn good! Mmm baby, does she ever talk about me? Tell me!”
I nodded my head yes and mumbled mmm hmm into her pussy.
“Ah- ah! I bet that gets you hard, yeah? Do you have to hide your hard- ah- hard dick when she bitches about me?”
I repeated the affirmative and she pushed my face into her even harder. She was now bucking her hips against me as I licker her like a madman. “Oh god, that’s so fucked up! Fuck- ah yes! That’s fucking HOT! Jesus I’m gonna- oh yeah! Make me come, yeah!”
She continued to thrust and I could feel the muscles in her thighs trembling as she strained. My jaw was getting tired, but I didn’t give a fuck. I was eating her pussy out like my life depended on it. She didn’t talk anymore, but just moaned and grunted. Finally her quick breathing stopped as she took a deep breath in, then let out a long low moan as her whole body shook. I pushed my body up against her to help her balance, but continued to give long, fast licks as she came against me. Her pussy, already drenched at this point, was now completely soaked. I felt like my mouth was swimming in her sweet juices. I didn’t stop pleasing her as her body relaxed and she calmed down, but I did slow down and give her a more gentle treatment.
Eventually she let out a long, satisfied sigh and pulled my head back from her pussy. She slid her leg off my shoulder and leaned back on her own weight. “Wow,” is all she said for a moment. “Baby, you did not disappoint.” I felt embarrassed at the compliment. She grabbed some toilet paper and dried herself off a bit, then put her panties back on. I had meanwhile continued to kneel on the floor, relaxing and catching my breath. I was also hard as steel, with pre-cum dripping out of me.
“You are such a naughty boy! I can’t believe the things you said,” she took in a deep breath and let out, “Wow! I love the way you talk! I’m gonna be thinking about that…” She seemed to be momentarily lost in her own thoughts.
I raised myself up, not really knowing what to do next. She smiled at me. “Well, I better get back. Maybe you should stay in here and uh…” she lightly grabbed my hard-standing cock through my pants, “…take care of this. After all… we wouldn’t want Jennifer to be suspicious, seeing us come back in together?”
My cock jerked in her hand. I tensed my muscles; I had almost exploded right there. She let out a little laugh, “But then again, who knows, maybe you’d get off on that.” She let go of my throbbing dick and opened the stall door. “Maybe you can think about that when you jerk off.” She started out but then stopped briefly. “Oh yeah, I guess we’re even now. Too bad, huh?” She gave me a wicked smile, then left the room.
I quickly undid the button and fly on my pants and pulled my hardness out. With my left hand pushing against the stall wall, I gripped myself with my right hand and masturbated right there. All I could think about was the feeling of Monica’s body: her thighs, her ass, her pussy. I replayed her dirty and scandalous remarks in my mind. I never thought something so fucked up would turn me on so much. What was she doing to me? I can’t believe I admitted to her that I thought she was hotter in a skirt than Jennifer. Jesus. Confessing that was so wrong, but fuck, Monica is just so-
And then I came hard. I tried to aim it into the bowl, but it went everywhere. I was shooting it all over, and there was so much. I got so turned on, so built up from eating her out and listening to her talk dirty. It was amazing.
After I calmed down, I cleaned up the mess and washed my hands. Then I realized I needed to wash my face and rinse out my mouth the best I could. I would need to choke down some mints or something when I got back to the kitchen to mask the smell of pussy off my breath. Once I felt reasonably composed, I made my way back.
Monica and her family were already gone. That was a relief. Jennifer was busy helping one of the chefs so she couldn’t come up to me right away, but she shot me a look that could have killed. I found some peppermints in a jar and sucked some down, then went back to work, trying to act as normal as I could. Eventually Jennifer found an opportunity to accost me.
“Where the hell were you?” she hissed.
“Uh, the bathroom,” I replied annoyed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“It sure took you a hell of a long time to take a piss! Did you see Monica?”
I shot back, “How the fuck would I see her? I’m sitting in there, taking a fat shit for Christ sake! What’s wrong with you?”
She was taken aback by this comment. It appeared to work. She mumbled, “Oh” and went back to some other task. I tried to look irritated in case she looked back at me, but inside I was shaking with relief. That was a close one. If she knew that I had just given my all to Monica’s dripping pussy… well… She didn’t know.
My own feelings were a mess. Part of me felt terrible guilt for what I had just done. But still a part of me did the best to rationalize it. I had to give in to Monica, or she would ruin my relationship. Or, fuck it; Jennifer’s goddamn paranoia practically drove my lust for Monica. Maybe if she’d shut up for once, I wouldn’t feel this need to rebel. But then I’d waver back and realize I was making excuses for my own behavior. I didn’t know how to feel. The only thing I did know was one day soon, the next time I went down on my girlfriend, I was sure I’d be thinking about Monica’s pussy at that time.
A few more weeks had passed without much event. Monica still toyed with me at work, often making insinuations about our recent encounter. I had decided to make some kind of stand for myself; now that we were even, there would be no more illicit trysts. Sure, she can flirt her ass off at work, there isn’t much I can do about that, but otherwise I was attempting to be determined to remain faithful to Jennifer. I say “attempting” because there was always a persistent voice in the back of my head that wanted nothing more than to see what Monica had in store for me next. But I did my best to keep fantasy as just that.
One day, she said to me, “I hope we can have one of our… conversations again sometime.” My moral resolve failed me and I couldn’t manage to say any kind of no. Instead, I smiled sheepishly, remembering the terrible things she and I had said in the past. “Mmm, I guess I’m not the only one!” she cooed, and went about her business.
Things went on like that for a little while. Jennifer still hated seeing Monica flirt with me at work, although as far as I could tell, she wasn’t bothered by her that much when I wasn’t around. I tried to assuage her paranoia, which succeeded when we weren’t on the job, but at work it was pointless. She routinely became cold to me and acted as if I didn’t exist. This annoyed me greatly, and I thought, all you’re doing is pushing me towards Monica as a friendly face. At least she is civil at work. But I kept that to myself.
It was a Saturday night when something bizarre happened. Normally when we go out on dates, or just stay in and hang out together, we tend to avoid talking about work, lest Monica enter the conversation and instigate a fight. This evening was going pretty well. Jennifer brought home some margaritas and we relaxed with them, watching some campy horror movie. It was one of those newer ones that tries to draw in young viewers by hiring beautiful fresh actors and actresses as eye candy to compensate for the pathetic plot.
We were having a good time, slightly buzzed, laughing at the movie. Whenever some young hottie on the screen came on in a skimpy outfit, Jennifer jokingly cheered, “Yay, more T and A!” I returned the favor with the guys in the film, and it was no big deal. At some point she asked me which girl I thought was the best looking. I told her, thinking it was no big deal (as she’s typically comfortable with that kind of thing unless it was concerning you-know-who).
But I was quickly dismayed to hear her say, “Yeah, I figured. She is definitely the hottest one. She looks like Monica.”
I gave her an incredulous look as if to say drop it, but she continued. “She has the same body type and everything. Look at her in that tiny skirt. I bet I know what that reminds you of.” She muttered half insulting, half ruminating on her own words. I think it was the alcohol that mellowed her out from getting really pissed off.
I turned to her on the couch, put my hands on her shoulders and pushed her down. “How about you not talk about her for once?” I was never particularly forceful with Jennifer, and this shocked her.
“Oh, you’re getting rough. Does just hearing Monica’s name turn you into an animal–?” I leaned in and cut her off with a forceful kiss on her mouth. I’m not sure why I did it. Maybe it was to shut her up. Maybe it was because she was talking about Monica. But for whatever reason, I felt her kiss back. I was a little shocked, thinking she would push me away.
When I released from the kiss, she looked at me with surprise in her eyes. She breathed, “I fucking hate that bitch!” and pulled my face back to hers to continue the kiss. This one was even more passionate, and I felt myself growing hard. I began to run my hands along her sides and up her shirt. She reciprocated and pushed her hands along my chest, pushing my shirt up as she went. We broke from our kiss and she practically tore my shirt off. Then she got up off the couch, glaring at me. She was breathing hard, and I had no idea what was going through her mind. Then she undid her jeans and pushed them off of her, taking her panties along with them. My eyes popped as I saw her engorged pussy. She was horny!
“Monica may look like a goddess, but will she fuck you like one?” she said in an impassioned curse. She dropped down to her knees and worked my pants down to my ankles. My hard cock sprang into view. At first I was nervous; was she going to think I was hard because she was half-naked, or because she was talking about Monica?
She grabbed it at the base and rushed up to it to take it in her mouth like a snake striking its prey. I involuntarily moaned as she took more of me into her mouth than she ever had before, sucking with such enthusiasm and swirling her tongue around the shaft. I thought this was great, but I felt my aggression at her mention of Monica surge back up inside of me. I grabbed her hair and pulled her off my dick, staring at her. “What’s the matter?” she hissed, “Don’t you like it? Just think about her if you have to!”
I got up from the couch with her still kneeling before me. I kicked my jeans and boxers off my ankles and grabbed her arms to bring her up. “You’re really pissing me the fuck off!” I growled and pushed her hard back onto the couch. One of her legs draped over to the floor, the other was pressed against the back of the sofa. She looked up at me, as if challenging me to do something. I took one look at her dripping pussy, then climbed on top of her and pushed my cock into it.
She yelped in surprise but enthusiastically grabbed onto my ass and pushed back into me. I put my weight on my arms that pushed down on the couch on both sides of her and gave her long, hard strokes. I was shocked at how wet she already was.
Neither of us said anything for a minute as we found our rhythm and worked into each other. Eventually between her heavy breaths, she started grunting things to me. “Yeah, my man likes to fuck, not just look. Monica’s all- ah- all show.” I didn’t say anything back to her. My mouth was clenched shut and I just focused on moving how she wanted me to move.
“Yeah, but… fuck! What a show. Goddamn she’s- yeah- she’s so fucking hot. Ah- I fucking hate her so much! She’s got that- that perfect little body… she- ah- she fits into everything fucking perfectly!”
I clenched my hands, squeezing into the couch, trying to stay in control of my body. I couldn’t believe she was bitching about how gorgeous Monica was while fucking me. But she continued.
“God! Her tits- fuck! Why does she- ah- get to have such perfect fucking tits! They’re so big on- yeah- so big in her tiny shirts. Fuck! They just- ah- pop out! Begging to be sucked by- fuck!”
I felt myself push into her rather hard, breaking our rhythm momentarily. She was turning me on so much, I could barely take it. Thinking about Monica’s tits bulging behind some flimsy shirt was almost too much to take. I worried for a second that she knew what effect she was having on me and was going to get furious and stop. To my astonishment, she went on.
“Yeah, see? I knew you fucking liked them. God! I- ah- I can’t blame you. She’s so- ah- her ass too… that tight little thing! The way she- she sways it when she walks for you or- oh! Bends over… GOD! Fucking bitch!”
I was trying to slow her down. She was humping against me really hard, grinding her body against me, pushing me into her with her hands still clutching my ass. But it was no use. She was like an animal in heat. What in the world had come over her? I dimly thought that it must be the alcohol; she must be drunker than I thought, but these thoughts quickly fled and she moaned on.
“I hate her so much! That fucking slut, Monica! Thinks she’s- ah- ah! Knows she’s so HOT! Fucking- ah- perfect body…” I couldn’t believe it, but she was getting ready to climax. I could feel the telltale signs: the way her body tensed up and her changed breathing. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck you Monica! I hate you- fucking cunt! Ah! Yeah, fuck you! Monica! Monica!” She was chanting her name between gasps.
I simply couldn’t take anymore and started coming hard into her. I had never been so turned on in my life. My body shook, completely out of control, and I collapsed onto her as I pumped into her without a care in the world. She responded by wrapping one arm around my back, now pulling me as close to her as possible, grinding against my spasming cock.
“Yeah! Monica! Fuck you! Fuck- fuck- fuck you- OH fuck meeee–!” This last word turned into a wail as she finally found release and came against my body. For my own part, I was just coming down from my high, but I was so horny that I still found myself fairly hard. My shock from her dirty moaning and screams started pumping new life into me and I got harder. I was sure I couldn’t come again; I had already unloaded way more than usual into her, but I was damned if I wasn’t going to keep fucking her as long as she wanted me to.
She continued to drive into me, as if squeezing as much possible orgasm out of the situation that she could. Her body continued to tremble after the bulk of her climax was over. I think she may have had a couple little “aftershocks” as she came down from her high. Her eyes were clenched shut and her mouth hung open in exhausted satisfaction. Eventually her arms relaxed and she went limp. I stared at her in wonder. Holy shit, she passed out from that!
I gently pushed myself up and off of her, and slowly slid out of her pussy. She barely stirred. There was a trace of a little smile on her face, but otherwise she appeared asleep. I got off the couch and realized it was a mess; we had completely soaked it in our sweat and cum. Not wanting to disturb Jennifer, I decided it could wait until she woke up.
I went into the kitchen and washed my hands, splashing water on my face. My thoughts raced as I tried to figure out what in the hell just happened. What would have normally turned into a huge argument and ruined our night had somehow turned out to be the most scandalous sex we ever had. I was stupefied as to Jennifer actually getting off on Monica. How does that even work? She was bitching about Monica’s body, moaning in detail about it, and actually getting off on it. Was it really the alcohol? Did it stir up something that she was repressing inside of her? Maybe it was just a strange way for her to deal with her emotions? I just did not know. All I did know was that I couldn’t believe my girlfriend and I just fucked and came together to the thought of her rival.
I went back to the couch and picked up my pants. As I gazed at Jennifer and thought about the things she said, I couldn’t help but to wonder. How is this going to play out when she wakes up? And in the back of my mind, I pondered, how can I bring this up to Monica…
I stayed the night over. Jennifer seemed bent on sleeping on the couch, so I put some blankets over her and let it be. The next morning, I made a simple breakfast and she finally stirred to get up. We made small talk. It was slightly uncomfortable. I knew that she remembered what had happened the previous night. Sure she was a bit drunk, but she wasn’t so plastered that she would have blacked out. However, I dared not mention our escapades before her. I had no idea how she might react. Anger? Embarrassment? Indifference?
At any rate, she didn’t bring it up, so I refrained from broaching the topic. Although I was very anxious to talk about it, it seemed clear to me that she wasn’t interested. Perhaps it was a one-time thing. Or maybe she simply didn’t know how to explain it herself. Whatever it was, for now it would have to rest.
Over the next few days, things slowly returned to normal. By “return”, I mean to say things were different insofar as Jennifer did not bring up Monica for awhile. This made sense to me. She probably figured if she brought it up, then we would surely talk about that impassioned night.
I noticed at work, Jennifer didn’t scowl at me as much when she saw Monica flirting with me. Maybe she felt more secure, airing out her aggressions and knowing (or at least assuming) that she was the only one who ever saw any action with me. I also thought I noticed her checking Monica out every so often. And not just that competitive look that girls give when comparing another’s body to their own, but more like an actual interest in what she was seeing. The thought of that excited me deeply, but I decided I must have been imagining things. Wishful thinking due to the way she spoke before.
In some ways, that fervent sex actually dimmed my lust for Monica. Oh, it was still there of course. But it made me look at Jennifer in a new light. There was a fire there that I liked, something really excited me. But as time went on, and as Jennifer made no indication whatsoever that she would want to talk about that night, let alone repeat it, that feeling started to diminish. Monica’s flirtations once again stimulated me, and her forbidden attraction stirred over.
I tried to put it out of my head. It was doable when we had a stretch of work days where we didn’t share the same schedule. Out of sight, out of mind. But eventually a day would roll around where we’d be working side by side, and her teasing coquetry would rile me up. Then there I’d be again, fantasies of Monica dancing around in my mind.
On one such day, we had been talking about nothing in particular, and there was a lull in the conversation. Then she tentatively suggested, “How often do you wish we weren’t even?” There was a brief but pregnant silence. My mind was racing. This was in ways a much more direct reference to our previous sexual activities. It was still flirty, but there was something more serious in her voice that made me panic. The faithful side of me (or what was left of it) wanted to get away from this topic as fast as possible. The shameless side of me wanted to see how I could play this out. I could tell she was smiling inwardly at my discomfort. But before I managed to say anything, one of the chefs called her over to help with something.
I noticed my palms were sweaty from the mere insinuation of another possible meeting. I wondered anxiously the rest of the day if she was going to bring it up again, but she dropped the subject. As usual, I was both relieved and disappointed.
Before we left for the day Beth, another young co-worker, announced to the rest of the young crew that she was having a party at the house she rented that upcoming Friday. I was on friendly terms with her and I figured I would make an appearance. I assumed Jennifer would go too. Deep down I speculated whether Monica would show.
I learned the next day that Jennifer already had plans to go out with her visiting sister that night. Since there would be enough mutual friends at the party, I decided it wouldn’t look too terrible if I went anyway; my chief fear being that Jennifer would suspect I was only going to see Monica. To my surprise and relief, she didn’t flip me any trouble over the matter. She suggested that, if I was still there, she would make an effort to stop by later after she met with her sister. I said that was a fine idea and that was that.
The day of the party rolled around and I had to admit to myself there was a level of nervous energy balled up inside of me. Although I was happy to go out and socialize, I had to confess I was mainly going with the hope that Monica would make an appearance. What might she do now that we were away from work? I was restless with anticipation.
When I arrived, things had already picked up at the house. It was fairly big: two stories. On the first floor there was a large kitchen and living space that was fairy wide open. The furniture had been moved to allow dancing for those interested; loud music consisting mostly of a steady boom boom played on. I noticed some people were already dancing. Others were milling around, chatting it up and drinking. I was somewhat surprised at the amount of people that showed up, and I figured it was probably one of those deals where second- and third-hand invitations get passed around.
I wandered around, fraternizing with the guests I recognized. I never gave anybody my full attention as I always had one eye out in case I could spot Monica. About an hour later I gave up hope, and was just enjoying the company. I didn’t feel like dancing, so I mostly hung back and had a drink, yucking it up with whomever. Somebody was in the process of telling me a story about his roommate when I felt a set of hands wrap around my eyes from behind. “Guess who!”
I broke into a huge grin. I was a little buzzed already and my inhibitions and bashfulness were subdued. “I dunno but she sure sounds cute!” She removed her hands and I turned around, then gave a good long bottom-to-top checkout of Monica. She was wearing a pair of tight jeans, slightly fraying at the knees. They were low riders and hugged her hips majestically. A simple tight, white tee shirt graced her top, which contrasted nicely with her natural tan and accented the curves of her tits that barely fit inside. It showed no cleavage, but was a bit short on the bottom, so in conjunction with her low pants, there was always some stomach showing. Leave it to Monica to dress in completely plain clothes and still make it look hotter than something else intentionally sexy.
“Oh! Feeling frisky tonight huh?” she said with an eyebrow cocked. I smiled and shrugged my shoulders. Sadly the conversation was cut off as she saw the Beth, the hostess, off in the distance. She called out her name, lifting her arms up and signaling to her across the room, then trotted over to hug her and say hello. I admired her ass as she walked away from me and got a little hard thinking about grabbing onto it when I went down on her weeks ago.
The guy that had previously been talking to me reminded me of his presence, of which I had completely forgotten. “Jesus she’s a hot one!”
“Tell me about it,” I nodded.
Not wanting to be too pushy, and still retraining some dignity and resolve, I didn’t chase after or fawn over Monica. I tried to play it cool just watched her when I could. She talked with some people, had a drink, and ended up on the dance floor. Looking at her dance was a thing to behold. She was as graceful as a cat, moving her hips, her stomach, her arms, everything. I especially loved it when she would reach up high, which had the effect of pulling her shirt up even higher and revealing her entire perfect abdomen.
For the most part she danced by herself. I chuckled as I saw some guys attempt to approach and dance with her. She would lead them on for a minute, acting interested, getting their hopes up, then just as quickly turn, slink away, and continue dancing on her own. Did she ever get tired of that, I wondered. I was pleased to see her dance with some other cute girls as well, and I fantasized if she would ever seduce a girl like she did me.
At some point she made eye contact with me and beckoned me over seductively. I was reluctant because I didn’t want to be made a fool. She gestured again a minute later and I gave in. Joining her on the dance floor, I was startled to feel her move her body right up against mine, face to face, and so quickly. “Poor boy, you looked lonely!” I shrugged and enjoyed the sensations of her body brushing up and rubbing against mine.
“Where’s your girlfriend?” She drew out the world giiiirl as if playfully mocking me.
“She’s not here.”
“Aww that’s too bad,” she cooed.
“Yeah. Don’t you think it’s more fun when she’s nearby?” she winked.
Up to that point I had my cock relatively under control, but now it sprang to life. She put her hands on my ass and pulled, grinding into me.
“Mmm, feels like you do!” she breathed.
The conversation dropped off and we danced for awhile longer. Her back was to me now, her arms reached up above her head and hands wrapped around the back of mine, ass grazing against me. “You know,” she started back up, “you never answered my question…”
“Which was that?” I replied casually.
She spun around and stared me dead in the eye and whispered, “How often do you wish we weren’t even?”
God, she knew how to work me. I tried to play it cool, “Hmm, maybe every once in awhile.”
“Aww,” she pouted, “Is that all?” She bit her lower lip and gave me a seductive look of disappointment.
Then, out of nowhere (or maybe from the alcohol), I heard myself say, “Why do we need to take turns? It’s possible to do it at the same time y’know.”
Holy shit, did I just say that? I think she thought the same thing. Her eyes went wide and she had an open-mouthed smile. “Oh you bad boy!”
“Like you’re so innocent” I snapped back, grinning.
“So… you like it naughty. Hey,” she moved her face to my ear and whispered very lightly, “there are some bedrooms upstairs…”
I closed my eyes and let those words soak in, then I gasped as I felt her hand run up my leg and squeeze my hard-on. The next few minutes were a blur. She led me off the dance floor, grabbed another drink, and guided me upstairs to a room near the back. A soft lamp was already on and she shut the door behind her. I turned and sat at the foot of the bed, watching her pose bewitchingly. She was sticking her chest out, showing off her round tits straining behind her shirt, letting me get a good look.
“Hmm, you’ve gotten to see a lot of my body. But I never get to see yours. Why don’t you show me what Jennifer gets to see?”
I quickly kicked off my shoes and socks and stood up. I pulled my shirt off and tossed it on the floor. “Ooh, not bad… But show me what I really want!”
I grinned and undid my belt; it landed near my shirt. Not wasting any time, I dropped my pants and boxers off at once, and tossed them behind me, landing on a nightstand by the bed. I stood naked in front of her, my cock twitching with my heartbeat, hard as a rock.
She giggled and said, “Ah wow, not wasting any time, are we?” I simply returned her gaze with one of unbridled lust. She slowly pulled up her own shirt, swaying her hips a little as she did it, giving a little tease. I stepped forward, wanting to grab her and hurry her up. “Ah ah,” she admonished, “you sit!” I reluctantly obeyed and sat again at the foot of the bed. I grabbed the base of my hardness and gently stroked as I watched her completely remove her shirt.
“Oh god, you horny boy!” she squealed with delight. “Here’s something you haven’t seen yet…” and she then unclasped her bra and let it drop to the floor. Her tits were amazing. I was surprised at how big and firm they were on her otherwise smaller frame. Yet they still looked perfect, not out of proportion or porn-starish. She grabbed them, one in each hand, and rubbed them against each other. “Jennifer always gets mad at you when you look at my cleavage… but she’s not here now, is she?”
“I don’t see why she gets so upset. So her man likes to look at a nice pair of tits?” she rolled her breasts around and ran her thumbs over her hard nipples. She closed her eyes and smiled as she did that, giving herself a little pleasure. Then she let go and worked her tight jeans down her legs, kicking them off with her sandals. Now she was standing before me, completely nude, and I drank in her body with my eyes.
She slinked toward me (I watched her curves sway with every step) and stopped right in front of me. I moved my hands up her ass and rested on her lower back, leaned forward, and began to kiss her stomach. “Mm, you’re so eager tonight…” she purred. She leaned over a bit, bringing her breasts to my mouth, and I dutifully licked them and lightly sucked on each of her nipples. “Ah, what would you’re girlfriend think now? There’s no forcing you this time…”
I didn’t care. I was completely lost in wanton hunger. With her hands on my shoulders, and with surprising intensity, she pushed me back onto the bed. Then she began to climb onto the edge of it. I pushed myself backwards, so my head reached the pillows. She followed me on all fours, like an animal stalking its prey. I think she even licked her lips. She stopped at my lap and hovered her pussy over my throbbing dick. I was desperate to be inside of her. I involuntarily raised my hips, but she raised herself, “Ah ah, not yet… I want a little of what I got last time,” she said insinuatingly. With that, she pulled herself up and positioned herself on her knees over my face. Then she lowered down and let me eat her pussy like I had done before.
I was happy to discover she was already wet. I gave her long, slow licks and she sighed softly. “I was hoping I’d get this again… It’s just so hard to- mmm- pry you away by yourself… ah, so resistant…” I grabbed her waist and guided her along my tongue, sometimes forcing her still as I lapped at her faster. I was lost in the moment and probably would have just kept on going until she came when we were both startled by a phone ringing.
Realizing it was the cell phone in my pants pocket, I pushed her away and she made a reluctant little whimper and slid down my stomach. I reached for my jeans, which had landed on the nightstand next to us, and fumbled to get the phone out. “Hmm I wonder who is so important to interrupt us…” she asked with a knowing smile.
I glanced at the phone display and put it to my ear, answering, “Hey babe, what’s up?”
“Hey, I’m done with dinner, my sister just left,” Jennifer greeted. “Are you still at the party?”
“Uh huh, yeah,” I replied, reeling with the surreal experience of talking to my girlfriend while Monica straddled me and slithered further down my body, pursing her lips and blowing me a kiss.
“Okay, are you gonna stay? Should I stop by, or are you going to leave soon?”
“I’m, uh- haha!” I cut into a little burst of laughter as Monica raked her nails lightly along my stomach, tickling me.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“I uh- this guy, dancing, he tried some move an uh- totally face planted into the floor,” I lied.
“Oh. So you’re staying?”
I hissed a quick intake of breath and rolled my eyes back into my head as I felt Monica slide her body over my cock and push me into her wet cunt. I bit my lip so I wouldn’t moan or say anything.
“Hello, are you there?” Jennifer asked, annoyed.
I regained some composure. “Yeah, the reception here sucks. Come on over, okay? I’ll see you when you get here!” Monica started to rock lightly on my cock, her hands resting on my chest now.
“Okay uh… see you soon then” and she hung up.
I dropped the phone and let it slide off the bed to the floor. “Jesus fuck!” I let out.
“Oh I’m sorry,” Monica feigned remorse. “Was I distracting you? Can you not talk to your girlfriend and fuck another little hottie at the same time?”
I grabbed her waist and pushed myself into her as deep as I could. “You’re such a- ah fuck- such a goddamn tease.”
“I know I am,” she thrust her body along with mine, “I like making boys melt. Especially you. Jennifer is a cutey too, and when I saw her, mmm, dating you, I wondered what I was- ah- was missing…”
“Yeah you- ah- fucking bitch… I can’t believe the- ahh- the lengths you go.”
Monica was moaning a little as she talked now. “Ooh, I know. And you tried so hard to resist me. God, that just made me want it more. Mm, when I made you come that first time, ahh, you should have seen your face…”
“Fuck that was- was so goddamn twisted- so wrong…” I grunted.
“Ah yeah and- ohh, that you got off on it- Jesus, that night I just had to play with myself thinking- ahh- thinking about it.” She closed her eyes as if thinking it over right then, and I just watched her tits bounce and she rode me steadily. Then she opened her eyes and said, “Tell me, do you think about- mm, think about me when- ah- when you play with yourself?”
I gritted my teeth, “Yeah.”
“Oooh, a lot?”
“Fuck, I like that… tell me again…” she pleaded.
“Yeah Monica, I think- ah- I think about you when I jack off. Fuck! I’ve come so many goddamn times…”
She gave a long moan and pressed down on me harder. “Gooood… Yeah, I like knowing you can’t- ahh- can’t help thinking about me when- ah- you touch yourself…” She bit her lower lip and gave me a serious look, “Have you ever- mm- thought about me when you- when you fuck Jennifer?”
I felt her straining her muscles and wondered if she was trying to orgasm. For my own part, I was trying to take it slow and keep control over myself, not wanting the moment to end. In some ways I think I was in disbelief that I was actually fucking her in the first place. She asked again, “Tell me, do you- ah- have you ever? When you f-fuck?”
“Y-yeah I have” I admitted.
“Oh god” she whispered under her breath. She let her head hang down, neck limp, as her legs tightened and her hands clenched on my skin. Her body was pressing down on me as hard as she could, grinding back and forth in tiny thrusts. Unintelligible moans escaped her lips as she continued this and climaxed. This was too much for me to take, and I felt myself about to explode as well. Her head shot up and she glared at me, digging her nails into my chest so hard it hurt. “No! Don’t come yet! We’re- fuuuck- we’re not finished!”
The sudden outburst in conjunction with the sharp pain distracted me and helped me regain my poise. She felt that I was no longer out of control and smiled, “Good boy.”
She relaxed her legs and pulled me up a bit, then started to lean over, indicating she wanted me to be on top. I acquiesced and let her roll onto her back, then quickly positioned myself between her legs and slid back into her.
“That’s so hot baby- mm- thinking of me while you fuck her. That’s- that’s bad.”
I found a new rhythm, gradually fucking her with long strokes. “You don’t know the half of it…”
She ran one of her hands through my hair, “Oh… oh tell me more…”
“One night we were- me and Jennifer- we were ah- having some drinks- watching a movie. She ah- she brought you up…”
“Uh oh,” she moaned, “did that excite you?”
I continued the story, “Normally she- ah- she bitches about you, you know- ah- jealous… She started raving about- ah- your tight little body.”
“She talked about my- mm- body? Did you like that?”
“Fuck- of course- I was hard as a- a fuckin’ rock. The thing is though- ah- normally we get into these fights, you know, but this time, I guess- ah- I mean we were drunk and- ah, we took off our pants and- and started to fuck.”
Monica gasped and I felt her begin to thrust along with me with renewed interest in her own pleasure.
“So then,” I went on, “she just kept on bitching, you know? She like- ah- is fucking me there, screaming about your tits, how- fuck- how they’d be good to suck, and then- God- your tight little ass, how- ah Jesus!”
She was fucking me harder now; holding my ass and guiding me to a pace that suited her. Her breathing was becoming more intense. I knew she loved hearing this. “God, talking about my body- ah- while fucking… that’s- ohhh…” she moaned.
“So anyway she- she was like not even talking at me, she- ah- was in her own world, describing you and- ah- cursing your name, pissed off… Then she went- went buck-wild and was screaming your name over and over…”
“Oh fuck! That is so twisted! Your fucking girl- ah- girlfriend was getting off on me?” she rasped; her legs were wrapped around me now.
“I know- yeah! It was so hot, I couldn’t- ah- couldn’t take it… I just blew into her when she kept- kept on with your name and- and she kept going, like an animal, and then she- she came too… she…” I was interrupted as I felt her nails dig into me and her body squeeze around mine. Her eyes were clenched shut and she was biting her lip, giving soft little grunts as she came again.
That was it for me. She stopped me once, but now, between getting out that bottled-up story and Monica getting off on it, there was no holding back. My cock swelled up and I started pumping into her, coming like crazy, impaling myself into her as far as I could possibly go. I was lost in the moment and didn’t fully regain my senses for maybe another minute. Realizing I was now lying on top of her, both of us breathing hard trying to catch our breath, I pushed myself up and rolled off of her.
We were both drenched in sweat. Neither of us said anything for a little while, both still in post-orgasm bliss. Eventually she broke the silence, “Hmm that was maybe the hottest thing I’ve ever heard…” she mused.
I mumbled an agreement.
“Seducing you, I… I never expected she would… ah…” she trailed off.
My thoughts wandered. I was thinking about what had just happened, what I had told her, how she reacted. It was all so unreal. Suddenly I heard a course of laughter come from the floor below, and the situation flooded back into my mind. I realized we ought to get dressed in case someone came up to the room. Sliding out of the bed, I began to find my clothes and get dressed.
Monica languidly watched me, completely unperturbed. “Hmm you know, Jennifer is an eye-catching girl… that’s part of what made chasing you so naughty.”
I absent-mindedly nodded, picking up my shirt.
“I would totally fuck her,” she announced offhandedly. The statement hit me like a wave and I just froze in position. Did she just say that? “Hmm and I don’t think you would mind…” she noted.
Recovering from the shock of her statement, I blurted out, “Yeah well, good fucking luck!”
Her eyes widened a little bit in indignation, “Oh, is that a challenge? You know that’s what I like…” she said with an air of sultry defiance.
I just shrugged and finished putting on my shirt. “She’s probably going to be here any minute. I’m going downstairs.”
“Aww,” she ran her hands over her still-naked body, “You won’t stay for this?”
I paused briefly, already feeling my exhausted cock jumping a little. I knew I had to get back to the party. I took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “Besides,” I offered, “don’t you want to see Jennifer too?”
She gave me a sly look with an impish smile and sat up, looking for her clothes. I gazed at her naked body one last time, taking it all in, and then slipped out the door. I hurried down the stairs and rejoined the party, looking around to see if my girlfriend had gotten there yet. Noticing her chatting with a small group of people, I made my way over to her and caught her attention.
She slipped away from her conversation and met up with me. “Where’ve you been?” she inquired.
“Huh?” I feigned confusion.
“I’ve been here for a little while, I couldn’t find you…”
“Oh, I was upstairs,” I paused, “Playing darts with some guys in the den up there.” I was hoping she didn’t take a tour upstairs when she was looking for me.
“You’re sweating from playing darts?” she asked skeptically.
“I’ve been here awhile, and it’s fucking hot upstairs. No ventilation or something…”
“Ah.” She accepted the explanation and we milled around a bit. After getting some drinks, we part ways for awhile, visiting with other people. My heart was racing; I couldn’t believe I got away with that. I figured it was because she hadn’t seen Monica. Where was she, anyway? I checked out the dance floor, but she wasn’t there. I was beginning to wonder if she had slipped out unnoticed and left the party entirely.
Jennifer and I joined back up and danced for a little while. She said she was thirsty and stopped to go get another drink. I thought she must be having a good time because she was already a little buzzed and feeling pretty loose. Two attractive girls were dancing with each other and I couldn’t help but to admire them for a couple minutes. I realized then that Jennifer hadn’t come back yet, so I went looking for her.
I was astonished to see her having a drink with Monica. They were talking to each other, and it appeared quite amicably. I could tell Monica was using her usual charm and flattery, and I wondered if Jennifer was more open-minded to friendship when she had alcohol in her. Then I saw Monica lean in close to her, rest one of her hands on Jennifer’s hips, and whisper something in her ear. They both burst out in giggles and Jennifer teasingly pushed Monica away. I tried to think what the two could be talking about, especially if it was about me. At first I was worried that Monica was going to say something and give me away, but they seemed to both be so happy that I dismissed the idea.
I caught up with Jennifer a little later and she informed, “Did you know Monica is here?”
“Yeah, I saw you two talking.”
“Yeah… sometimes she can be nice,” she smiled, a little looped.
“Oh yeah? What did she have to say?” I asked.
“Why? Hoping she was talking about you?” she gave me a sarcastic smirk. I was a little stunned because her tone was almost flirtatious instead of downright insulting. Not wanting to push my luck, I dropped the subject. “I’m gonna go dance some more!” she announced to me and skipped off.
I decided to hang back before I joined her. Maybe I could catch Monica and see if I couldn’t figure out what they were giggling about. I looked around for a few minutes to no avail, then realized she was on the dance floor too. Her back was to me and I could tell she was dancing with somebody, another girl. I was admiring her moves until she bent down, running her hands down her dance partner’s curves.
My jaw dropped open to see that it was Jennifer. Her hands were up in the air, freely letting Monica feel the length of her body. Monica pulled herself back up and continued to bump and grind against Jennifer. The two were entwined in an extremely physical dance; I knew I wasn’t the only guy ogling the scene.
They turned and repositioned themselves. Now I could see them side by side. Monica saw me staring and returned the gaze with an incredibly sultry look. She pursed her lips and blew me a kiss, then placed both her hands flat on Jennifer’s face and kissed her on the mouth. I watched in awe as my girlfriend’s body tensed up in surprise, but then eagerly pushed forward into the kiss.
My cock was raging hard again for the night. Watching my girl make out with her rival like that… holy shit. That’s all I can say. Knowing she was doing it right after Monica and I had fucked had made it even more perverse and sexy. I watched on with delight, but that was as extreme as it got. They danced for the rest of the song, and then Monica excused herself from the dance floor.
Jennifer didn’t seem to be affected and continued to dance for another song, maybe from the high of what just happened. I eyed Monica as she approached me. “Did you like my little show?” she asked innocently. “Wait, don’t tell me… let me find out for myself…” She then imperceptibly reached her hand down and grabbed my hard-on through my jeans. “Uh huh, I thought so.”
“What were you two giggling about earlier?” I asked.
She bit her lip and cutely said, “Sorry, girl-talk. No boys allowed.”
I shrugged, knowing there was no beating her.
“I gave your girlfriend a little taste today… Promise me though?” she said, placing a hand on my chest.
“Promise what?” I requested.
“Next time we see each other, tell me what she says about me tonight when you fuck her.” She ran her hand down my chest, across my side, and gave me a playful spank on the ass. Then she walked away, making sure to accentuate her swaying ass as she said her goodbyes and left the party.
A couple of minutes later, Jennifer came up to me and said she was ready to go home. She suggested we crash at my place. From her husky voice and eager look in her eyes, I could tell she was horny. Under normal circumstances, there would be no way I could fuck again after the session I had just had with Monica. But after seeing those two on the dance floor and hearing Monica’s sexy foretelling of what it would be like, well, these were no normal circumstances.
I fervently escorted her out of the party and couldn’t wait until we got home.