Thursday, September 8, 2011

A Bad Thing

I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was doing a bad thing.  Richard, the guy I met at the bar seemed quite nice, and put together.  We had gone out on several dates, and our first kiss, to me anyway, signified the start of something good.  Our first few nights together, which were always spent at my place, were much better.  Unfortunately for me, I didn’t notice his finger and the fact that he had a hair missing from the knuckle of his left hand.  For the uninitiated, this is the effect of constantly slipping your wedding ring on and off.  

So, when I appeared at the front door of his apartment one morning, after completing a run, in an unannounced visit, I did notice he was a little flustered, but I figured that was his general demeanor.  He invited me in, reassuring me that I had not caught him at a bad time, and he had all the time in the world.  

After a long talk, we eventually started kissing on his couch, which led to me leading him to the bedroom.  I was just wearing my running shorts, sports bra, t-shirt, and sneakers, which formed a nice clothing pile in the middle of the room.  Richard was kind of an animal, and his hands were all over my naked body as soon as possible.  

Since graduating college, I’ve been on a health kick, and I’ve been training to do a half-marathon in a few months.  I’m no stick, but I do have a rather slender figure, and I’ve done all the exercises I can to maintain flexibility, which is very good for speed and stamina.  Richard had a similar build, and looked me up and down like he was quite hungry.

He threw on the bed and started to maul me a bit, when I heard the door slam.  My ears picked up on it first, a female voice calling Richard’s name.

“What was that?” I asked.

Richard’s face turned pale as he listened and heard a familiar voice call his name again.  Instantly, he stood up, his penis still erect, and said “Shit!”

He bolted for his own clothes and started putting them on as quick as he could.  “Shit, shit, shit,” he cursed as he listened for his name again and fumbled with the clothes he had.

“Richard, what the hell is going on?” I asked, but my mind was finally putting it all together.

“Listen, Mae, it’s been great, but that’s my wife,” he said, grabbing my hand.  He opened the walk-in closet and pushed me in.  “I know this looks really bad, but I can explain, but first, can you stay in here REALLY quietly for about a few minutes?”

I was completely dumbfounded as my brain soaked in what he requested.  I was supposed to just stand in some walk-in closet naked while...

My thoughts were interrupted by the closet door slamming in my face, and the female voice walking in the bedroom.  

“Mary,” he said.  “What are you doing back?”

“Forgot my charger,” Mary said.  “You look flustered.”

I kept myself silent as Richard lied his way around why he looked the way he did.  Mary, obviously knew something was up.

“Have you been looking up porn on the internet again?”

Richard, knowing that it was far better to admit to a lesser crime confessed.  “Yes,” he said with a sigh of relief.  “I’ve been looking at some bad sites, I really have to stop.”

“Richard!” Mary yelled.  “This isn’t good!  Remember what the therapist said?”

Fuck, they’re in therapy?  My stomach turned as I realized that I was the other woman, and playing the role of homewrecker.

And out of all the possible times Richard felt like he had leverage to explode, he picked this time.  “There you go again, Mary, that doctor is not a fucking prophet!”  And an argument was born.

They fought back and forth and before long, Richard had had enough.  He stormed out of the room, and my eyes widened in terror as I heard the front door slam shut in anger.  He was gone, and Mary was still inside the room, crying to herself, with my pile of clothes neatly in the center.

I was paralyzed with fear in the walk-in closet, wondering if I could feel around for anything to quickly put on. Suddenly, the closet door slowly creaked open, and the light was turned on.  Their stood Mary, holding my clothes, and having a good look at the naked body of her husband’s mistress.

Tears streamed down her face, and she stared at me with anger.  I apologized profusely, and tried to explain that I didn’t know he was married.  She sat on the edge of my bed, clutching my clothes in her hands like a vice, sobbing.  I tried to do my best to comfort her, but there is no rule of etiquette for this situation.  I really just wanted my clothes so I could leave the apartment as fast as I could.

“Did you do it on this bed?” she asked between tears.

“No,” I said.  “You interrupted before that.”

“Well, there’s that,” she said, trying to comfort herself.  I didn’t have the heart to tell her about the other nights at my place.
“You know I’m not seeing him again, right?” I said.

“Why not?  You’d probably be great together!” she sobbed.  

“You’ll find someone that treats you right, Mary.” I said with a hand on her shoulder.  She then turned her head around and planted a kiss right on my lips.

Her lips tasted of a peach lip gloss, which is kind of an aphrodisiac for me.   I kissed back, matching her passion for passion.  She put her hands around me, and I pulled away a bit.

“Mary, what are you doing?”

“I don’t know, but you’re here, the bed is here, you’re hot and naked.”

“Mary, are you bi?” I asked.

“Not recently,” she said, “but c’mon it’s perfect to get back at him.  The divorce will just be like a break-up, we don’t have any kids or stuff.  This may be my only chance to get back at him!”

“Well,” I said, “I’m not so sure I want...” she cut me off with another kiss and groping my breasts.  She threw my lump of clothes in the corner and said, “Tough, you don’t get your clothes until you do.”

By this point my head was swirling and I was inexplicably turned on.  Mary started to undress revealing a young body, in her late twenties, with a fantastic figure.  She was dirty blonde and had alabaster skin underneath all the dark clothing, with a nice round yet firm ass.  I was mesmerized by her, and the situation, and licked my lips as she lifted the covers to the bed and slid herself inside.  She held the covers open, telling, not asking, me to join her.  “C’mon, before I change my mind.”

I found myself without words once again, and floated from a standing position to the end of the bed.  I climbed onto the mattress, and joined my peach flavored lover to wherever she needed me.

We mostly just hugged and kissed passionately.  She was definitely not at ease in this situation, and she was still holding back, refusing to let herself give in to me completely.  This was the first time I had willingly been part of a revenge fuck, and so while I am bi, Mary’s demeanor was unlike anything I had ever had.  She did allow me to guide her hands around me, and I caressed her, attempting to bring her to an orgasm.  Again, she held back and I could see that while she could kiss, other things would take some work.

“If we’re going to do this, let’s do it right,” I said.  I figured I would have to take the lead to guide her to something new.   I planted kisses down her chest, across her breasts, lightly flicking and biting the nipples.  I then travelled down south and landed my mouth directly on her pussy, which she responded by going completely limp.  I suddenly had free reign over her pussy and licked her clit, and her expression was frozen.  My licks were making some progress, and her own juices were flowing out of her and into my mouth, but I was afraid that nothing was getting through to her.

And then, suddenly, a moan.  And then another, and another, and I reached up to massage her breast.  She then started grinding her hips against my mouth, letting my tongue lap at her pussy lips and move her closer towards a climax.  Her breathing started getting more and more shallow until she gasped a scream and her whole body shuddered.

I let go and let her recover under me, listening to her heart race as we relaxed in the afterglow of her first orgasm with a woman.

When Richard came back it was an hour later, and I was having lunch at the table.  Mary and I were laughing and made a good show that we were now the best of friends.  I let Richard know that I didn’t think our special friendship would work out.

“That’s a shame,” Mary remarked, glancing at poor Richard.  “But I think we get along just fine.”

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