14 comments/ 77879 views/ 42 favorites My Kinky Fiancé Slips Up By: Odeon My name is Alistair, and back in May of 2002 I tagged along with my buddy Darren as he headed for a bar on the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica. On the way he received a phone call from a friend, a guy we called Dan-Dan, and as Dan-Dan spoke on the other end, Daren turned off of Santa Monica Blvd. and pointed his Camaro towards the Main Street drag. "Change of plans." He rolled his head towards me and smiled. "Dan-Dan and Scottie have something lined up for us at Main." I've never been comfortable hitting on chicks, but having come out of a three year relationship put me way behind in my game. Fortunately Dan-Dan and Scottie had that part all taken care of, or so they said. The two of them found four chicks who suited their ten-to-ten rule and were now looking for a headcount to match. Their rule stipulated that up to ten-o-clock they'd only sick their charms on chicks scoring a ten, but at eleven they'd start shopping for nines, and at twelve, eights, and so on until they were too drunk to care anymore. I don't know if the rule was created for fun or if they truly adhered to it, but seeing that it was only nine-thirty, and that meant 'tens' were supposedly waiting for us, I was highly skeptical. They hadn't lied! Of the four chicks I was immediately taken by this girl named Kelly, only she held Scottie's hand and pinched his right thumb knuckle, explaining how it happened to be one of her favorite erogenous zones. Scottie let her know she was crazy, and I guess to prove she wasn't, she slipped his thumb between her lips and sucked it like a little girl. It was absolutely one of the hottest things I'd ever seen, and left Scottie smiling like a goofball. I admit being pretty envious of the fucker. Things between the rest of us guys and gals were still undecided––at least in terms of who was getting who––and so we talked and drank as a big group for the next hour. Main was a romantically lit club, but it's cluttered with a maze of vertical grey bars, almost forming jail cells, and large sections of the walls were painted in black and brown lacquer, making the place feel overwhelmingly masculine––then there was Kelly in the middle of it all, the softest pillow of relief and difficult to pull my eyes from. The other three girls were exceptionally pretty, but Kelly was something else. She'd pulled her hair back into a ponytail, which exposed the entirety of her face, and showcased her smooth tan skin with its near satin sheen. A few undone buttons on her fuzzy sweater, and just barely enough chest to provide cleavage, meant another thing I had trouble not staring at. Her eyebrows characterized her best, they were a shade darker than her sandy blonde hair and sympathetically angled, making her expression seem kind and friendly, which she very much was, even to the point of being a huge flirt. Was I growing even more envious of Scottie? Fuck yeah! The club continued to fill up, forcing everyone to forget about the concept of personal space. Then from out of nowhere Scottie threw an arm around me and pulled me near enough to speak straight in my ear. "You going to bang any of these chicks or what?" He had a way of forcing the issue, so I let him know I was probably going to pass. They were all cute, but I just wasn't clicking with them. Instead of giving me the how-lame-are-you-speech I know he felt I deserved, he massaged my shoulders and smiled big. "Dude, is it cool if I go in for the kill?" "Sure, but what happened to Kelly, it looked like you were in there?" "She dropped the boyfriend bomb. Fuck'n little tease just now got around to mentioning him. I knew that bitch was too good to be true." I quickly made my way to Kelly, grabbed her thumb, and said over the music, "I heard this is one of the most erogenous areas of the body." She laughed, hiding her face in her other hand. She was super easy to talk to, and before I knew it we'd spent over an hour going back and forth on everything. Scottie came by and shoved two martinis between us. He was a bartender at T.G.I.Friday's, and liked to introduce everyone to what he considered to be the best in cocktails. As we took the drinks, I noticed Kelly's eyes appeared less than friendly for the first time that night, and I realized she was a bit peeved at Scottie for dropping her like a hot potato. Scottie was reasonably charming and very self-assured––being about six-one and two hundred pounds––but he bordered on cocky, always pushing himself on women as if they didn't really have a choice. Maybe things would have been different if he didn't have the looks to get away with it, but he did––and the way he'd so quickly riled Kelly up, led me to believe that a lame apology would turn her around equally as quick, and he'd still end up going home with her, boyfriend or not. Lucky for me he didn't feel like apologizing. The martini happened to be Grande Mariner, VOX Vodka, and a twist of orange peel. It was big, good, and strong, and my recollection of the rest of the evening suffered some. It hit Kelly, too, and soon she was holding my arm tightly against her, and hugging a cheek to my shoulder. Initially the knowledge of her boyfriend made conversation easy––I couldn't fuck up what could never be––but now she was this little sweet thing with these wide blue eyes, pleading for more and more of my attention as the night continued, and it killed me. Scottie talked to her friend, who'd grown louder by the minute and obviously the drunkest of the bunch. Every time Kelly looked their way, I'd lose her––her pretty little forehead would bunch up and her soft eyebrows would sink. She finally insisted that her friend had too much to drink and Kelly couldn't watch a guy like Scottie take total advantage of her. Before I could say anything, she pulled her friend from Scottie and took her glass. They started hugging as she pressed upon her friend that it was time to leave. Scottie pulled her back, and a tense moment occurred where I had to call him aside and have a talk. He was pissed, and said something to the effect of, "So that Kelly chick's got her panties in a twist because I deprived her of dick, and now she's going to cock-block¬¬ her friend?" I tried to explain it wasn't that, and he momentarily gave in, saying, "Fuck it! Take her home. I don't need this shit!" Kelly and I took that opportunity to get her friend into a Taxi and drive her home. On the way Kelly told her what an asshole Scottie was, and that she would've totally regretted it in the morning. She was too drunk to understand and yelled back, and I thought for sure the cab driver was going to drop us at the nearest corner. When we reached her apartment I walked them to the door and Kelly saw her inside. Kelly and I then went to Kelly's place and my heart danced when I found myself being invited in. In her living room I discovered a Britney Spears CD and held it up. "Are you sure you're twenty-three?" She grabbed it from me and insisted she only bought it for one song. I'd forgotten all about her previously mentioned boyfriend and apparently she did too, because we made our way into the bedroom where I laid eyes her gorilla collection for the first time––about twenty stuffed animal gorillas on shelves and at either side of her vanity mirror. "You're positive you're not twelve?" She laughed. "You tell me." She then gave me a big kiss and I was totally convinced. We cleared four more gorillas off the bed and continued to make out for about a half hour. It had been a long time since I'd taken the time to kiss a girl and explore her body through her clothes. So nice! I finally made my big move and slipped my hand down her unfastened jeans, quickly hitting pay dirt and getting a sweet moan from her sexy little mouth. She stopped me, took off my shirt, I removed hers, then our pants came off just as quick, and––well I was floored. From head to toe her body was tantalizingly tight, but her curves remained smooth and feminine, resembling some drill team girl who loved to be flung into the air and caught. I'd later learn she'd been a figure skater in her teens, so I wasn't too far off. Soon she leaned her hands on my chest as she rode me like a jockey rides race horse, seeming determined to work up a sweat. I moved on top and drove smooth and fast through several positions, like I had my hands on some high performance car with a chassis and engine to handle everything. I listened for the rise and fall of her soft purring as I thrust away at different speeds, and she let me know when she came and I knew it was for real. We finally passed out around three, with only a sheet covering us and her in my arms. In the morning she got a phone call, then slipped on a nighty and left me in the bedroom, putting her finger to her lips and telling me to be quiet as she shut the door. It turned out to be the infamous boyfriend, and she spent twenty minutes breaking up with him as I lay naked in her bed. When she came back her eyes were wet and her lashes formed little black stars. It was an incredibly awkward situation, but she offered to make coffee before I left. As we waited for it to brew she let me know I didn't need to feel bad about anything, because her and her boyfriend had agreed to see other people. In fact, it had been his idea. She again started crying as she repeated portions of their phone call. He hated that she was still friends with several of her old boyfriends, in his eyes she'd do anything to get attention, and maybe if her daddy spoiled her with love instead of things, she wouldn't have to go seeking approval by throwing herself at every good looking guy she saw. I did my best to console her, saying that everyone craves attention so you could pretty much deliver that speech to anyone. He was clearly being an asshole. She'd known what 'seeing other people' actually meant as soon as he'd suggested it¬¬––a chicken-shit way of driving a wedge between them. The coward needed her to fool around so he could blame her for breaking them apart and not feel like the big jerk. Well, she gave him that much. I offered her a hug and she came into my arms. "Am I pretty?" "You're beautiful." "Be totally honest, please?" "Seriously, you're the prettiest girl I've ever been out with." "You don't know how bad I need to hear that," she said, squeezing me tighter. "Because I feel really ugly right now." "The guy will totally regret this for the rest of his life. I guarantee it!" "Well," she began, sounding very flattered, and then releasing her hold some, "Don't take this the wrong way, but I kind of slept with you so this would happen––for him to break up with me. And he won't admit it, but this is exactly what he wanted to happen." Her forehead then bunched up in frustration, as she took a deep breath, "No, that's actually not true. I'm not that much of a huge bitch. I mean, there's a reason it was you and not just some guy. You're super cute, and you're really sweet! It sucks because I do care about you." She laughed, her eyes becoming happy crescents and squeezing out more tears. "If only you were my boyfriend and not my revenge fuck." If only... *** She was a complete mess for the next couple of weeks. Despite the fact her boyfriend pretty much pushed her into cheating on him, their mutual friends still blamed her and a lot of nasty things were said as a result. Her closest friends and family viewed me as the 'other guy', which made it a real challenge to be anything more. But I had a mean crush on her and cheered her up on several miserable nights, and by the end of the third week our feelings towards one another had grown too strong to care what anyone else thought. Over dinner at the Cheesecake Factory, she confessed, "I know we barely know each other, but you don't treat me like a spoiled brat. Or, I don't know, you're just super secure with yourself, and you don't try to put me in my place or act condescending the way guys always do. Just promise me you'll leave when you're ready too, and not pull a Jeff. I don't ever want to go through that again." I smiled back at her from across the table and promised, but added that I don't ever intend to leave. I couldn't believe someone as beautiful as Kelly had said that to me, and if anyone told me she'd eventually become my wife, I would've surely called them crazy. Shortly after, Darren, Dan-Dan, and Scottie grabbed me for an early morning soccer game. I hadn't seen Scottie since the evening I'd met Kelly, and as we stretched on the grass I apologized for getting between him and Kelly's friend. He was actually cool with it, and said that going home with a chick that drunk would've earned him a lap full of puke. He motioned with his hands like he was driving some chick's head onto his dick, and made a vomit sound. "Nasty," Darren shouted. I then mentioned I'd been dating Kelly, and both Darren and Dan-Dan gave me a thumbs-up, saying she was totally fine. Scottie on the other hand, gave her the thumbs-down. "Dude, she's fine, but that type of chick will only break your heart." Darren and Dan-Dan shut him up before he'd say anymore, but it left me wondering all day what he meant by 'that type of chick'? A bitch? A flirt? A serious attention hound? It led me to even bigger questions, like would I really be any less jealous or fragile than her prior boyfriend, or had I made a promise to her that I couldn't keep? *** Kelly was not shy with her body, but that part I didn't really mind. The first time I'd seen her flash titty was on rafting trip down the Colorado River with some of her friends. And as her vest opened and her bikini top came off, exposing her pink little nipples and firm 'C's to the still air, and as howls from her friends and even the guide echoed against the Mesozoic red rock walls, I was surprised to find myself brimming over with pride. So I learned that day, I could at least handle that much, in fact, it had been a bit of a turn on. But the boldest I've seen her had to be an afternoon towards the end of our first summer together, as we swam in a fancy pool at the base of the Hollywood hills. The pool belonged to Dan-Dan's uncle and he invited everyone over when his uncle left town. There were five guys and three girls. One of the three girls happened to be Scottie's new squeeze, who was hot, but didn't seem interested in much more than laying in the chaise lounge and drinking the melon balls Scottie concocted in the outdoor bar. Kelly and her friend Beth were lying on this two person raft in the pool, while the guys went off the diving board in the deep end. The diving board action got a little out of control, and Kelly shouted out, "Which of you whales is making all the waves?" Dan-Dan had just gone off the diving board, so he swam to their raft and started to lift it at one end, threatening to tip them over. Looking sympathetically annoyed, but without opening her eyes to the strong sun, Kelly pleaded for him to stop. "Gimmie one reason," he responded, like some nine-year-old bully. Dan-Dan's tall, about six-three, and although he had a naturally gangly frame, he and Scottie had been working out for at least two years, and he'd have no trouble tipping Kelly and her friend if he wished it. Kelly then dropped the bomb. "If you promise not to tip us we'll take off our tops." Beth wasn't quite ready to go along with this, but fortunately for us she'd had enough melon balls that it only took a little enthusiastic noise for her to cave. Next thing I know, Dan-Dan's setting their tops on the pool edge, and four, white, perky titties had joined our party. For close to a half-hour they floated that way, with Kelly taking a quick plunge into the pool just to cool off, and then scooted back up, her nipples hardened by the cold water. Apparently all it takes is two semi-nude girls to bring out the childish pervert in any guy, because soon enough we were doing canon balls off the diving board and trying produce waves big enough to jiggle their tits. Dan-Dan sent a big one, making the raft roll and momentarily cause their boobs to boogie nicely. We whooped at our success, and the girls, not being fools to our game, were laughing as they lay there soaking up the rays and the attention of five crazy guys. I don't remember how it happened, but Darren ended up going off the diving board without his trunks on. This turned into a nude flip contest between all the guys, which was a pretty good indicator as to how drunk we were. It was like we were in grade school again, and we almost forgot about the women. Bill quickly set the record at two and a half flips. The crazy fuckers were doing double bounces to pull this off, too. I had never seen a double bounce before, which required someone else to land on the board at the precise moment the person jumping took their last step, the additional weight providing twice the launching power. Bill was the lightest of the bunch, probably one-fifty, and that meant getting the most air. Part of the fun was getting so high you could see into the front yard, meaning anyone walking by could see you, and the whole getting 'busted' aspect made it feel like tryouts for Jackass. Drunk, naked, and out of control, the gang then wanted to launch Kelly, just to see how high we could get her. The idea of her bouncing topless on the board gave me an instant hard-on and I stayed quiet in the water hoping it would go away. Kelly slid off the raft and swam towards me. She'd noticed I'd turned silent, and wondered if she'd crossed a line. I decided what-the-hell, and let her know the truth, moving her hand to my erection. She smiled mischievously, giving it a squeeze. "You wanna a real show, baby?" She kissed me and swam over to the diving board, then walked out on it, still topless and looking like a centerfold in the evening sun. The guys called a foul because she still had her bikini bottoms on, and this was a nude flip contest. It took a few minutes and a chorus of, "Show us the goods," before she conceded and slid her bottoms to her ankles, lifting one foot out, and then kicking them towards me with the other. So my girlfriend's neatly-trimmed, dirty-blonde bush was exposed to all my friends and Bill, who I'd just met that day. Scottie had volunteered to be the bouncer, and stood on the side railings just past the board mounts, while Kelly backed up against him, preparing to run forward and jump. Scottie's dick was fucking big, like six inches soft and no telling how many inches hard, and that meat was right at the back of Kelly's head. He was slightly squatted for balance, with his hands on her shoulders for extra support until she needed to run forward. "Wait––turn around for a sec." It sounded as if something was wrong, so Kelly quickly turned her head, coming within an inch of Scottie's swaying dick. "Asshole," she shouted, and slugged him in his leg so hard that he almost fell. He apologized to me, saying he couldn't resist. Kelly then ran, and for his part he executed the double bounce perfectly. Scottie being something like two hundred meant the mere one-twenty-five pound Kelly shot into the sky about twenty feet. No flips were attempted, because she, nor anyone else, expected her to shoot up quite that high. Every yard on the block was privy to her weightless naked tits and beautiful ass. A scary moment occurred when it looked as if she might reach the shallow end, but she regained control and managed a nice jack knife in the middle of the pool, leaving a tall neat splash behind. Kelly's 'show' left me harder than a WWI helmet full of cement, but Scottie's girlfriend didn't seem to share my appreciation. She asked Scottie to go inside with her, where there'd no doubt be a fight waiting for him. We all got dressed, and then Scottie's girlfriend came back to get her bag of clothes and junk, and the two of them disappeared for the rest of the evening. Oh well. My Kinky Fiancé Slips Up As the sunlight dropped behind the Hollywood hills, leaving the valley in twilight, we moved ourselves into the house and continued getting drunk. Then around seven-thirty Kelly and I split and headed home. On the drive back to Santa Monica she mentioned Bill was taking a photography workshop, and he'd asked her if she wouldn't mind being a model for a few of his assignments. She'd be clothed, but it didn't pay anything, and it was pretty much just a kind favor to a guy she'd met that afternoon. This meant giving up her next few Saturdays––our time––and it bothered me that she didn't consider that. But after what she'd done in the pool, I didn't have time to stay bothered about anything, and quickly let her know how fucking hot she looked naked on the diving board. In front of five guys, no less! We fucked each other silly when we got home, and then fucked each other again. *** Obviously Kelly's uninhibited behavior didn't get to me, nor did her being a complete flirt, but Kelly also had a knack for making you feel special, and quickly became everyone's best friend. She had an optimistic, animated, presence and incredibly kind blue eyes that unzipped your self-esteem and quickly blew your ego towards orgasm. It's actually the thing I cherished most about her, at least when I was the recipient. And it wouldn't have bothered me if she'd gotten something out of it in return, like if Bill actually paid her to be a model. In the end, however, she was always the one putting out, and that left me feeling like dirt––because how could I be so wonderful if everyone else was too? It also didn't help that Scottie now had it in for her, given that he blamed Kelly for everything that transpired at the pool party, resulting in the loss of his girlfriend. So when Kelly and I attended our friend Beverly's wedding, and Kelly was dancing with some guy on the floor––bumping, but not over doing it–– Scottie slapped me on the shoulder and jerked his head towards her. "Shit, you're a bigger man than I am letting your merchandise flaunt her shit like that." So after a year of dating, and a year of sloppy seconds of her kind and caring nature, and an earful from Scottie, I started wondering if I could actually marry her. And once I'd put it that way, I began to wonder how I'd feel about my wife being the naked center of attention at a pool party, or having my wife bump asses with some guy on the dance floor. As strangely thrilling as these things were to me, I just couldn't imagine us married and feeling the same way. Kelly still seemed happy being with me, but without the possibility of marriage in our future, it felt like I was only leading her on. I started to look for problems between us that might grant me the balls to end it, and when I couldn't find one, or couldn't just do it, I grew madder and madder at myself. Finally, as we watched TV one night on my couch, I pulled the shittiest move of my life, and asked what she thought of seeing other people. She sat quiet, not answering for a long time, until finally squeaking out, "Sure. I mean if that's what you want." The implication was clear––she'd been down this exact path before. She'd made me promise I would never do this to her, but here it was. She left my apartment early that night, and I didn't receive her usual bedtime phone call, the one where she tells me to sleep well. I felt so horrible about what I'd done and wanted to somehow undo it, but I at least wasn't mad at myself anymore, and relief from that seemed worth it. We continued going out, but it was nothing more than a waiting game. Sooner or later one of us would see someone else and that would be it. I knew she was hurting even though she'd kiss me up with love, and it became clear she was clinging on––and man did that make me feel like the evil son-of-a-bitch I was. She finally asked me outright if we were breaking up, and––well, the beauty of this approach to breaking up is that you can deny you're even doing it, and avoid talk of it all together––and so I stuck with my story that we were just opening our relationship to new possibilities. But as the waiting dragged on, I began to miss the way we were, and everyday it became harder to continue, and knew I'd soon call it off just to hold her for real again. On a Sunday in June of 2003 I went to her apartment, where she grabbed me at the door and pulled me inside. She'd read my mind, and pushed me onto her couch, straddled my lap, and kissed my lips more affectionately than ever. She leaned back and announced, "Guess what?" I wasn't allowed anytime to answer. "Yesterday I decided that it's over. I know that's what you want, so I just decided it for you––we're done!" She then hugged me, rubbing her check against mine, letting me smell her perfume, before leaning back suddenly. "But it felt so bad and horrible right afterwards, baby. I don't want us to be over. That's what I realized next. So, no! We're not breaking up. I'm not letting it happen!" I hadn't realized what an ocean of pain was storming around inside me until right then, and as she spoke it filled me with near tear-jerking happiness. We kissed, only stopping long enough to get her shirt off. I ran my hands along her back, up her thighs and under her skirt, and as I nibbled on her neck and shoulders I discovered a suspicious bruise on her back, right at the base of her neck. "What's that?" "What?" She leaned back. "What's what?" "On your back." She got up and went to her bedroom for a look in the large mirrored closet doors, and found it. "Asshole!" I knew what I'd seen––a hickey––and I knew I wasn't the asshole. Then she ran back out and jumped into my lap again, desperately hugging me. I had a pretty good idea about what had happened. "So when you said you decided it was over, how exactly did you decide it?" She wouldn't show me her face. "Exactly how you're thinking. I... I went through with it. But I'm so sorry." She got off my lap and sat on the floor, looking totally ashamed. "And you weren't going to tell me?" She claimed she was afraid––when she realized that it would now be over between us, she was just too afraid to let me go. I believe at that point she didn't see the purpose in trying to lie, because when I asked her who, her answer left a lump in my throat. Scottie! She quickly jumped into explaining why, but couldn't. Nothing she could say would undo the fact that she'd fucked him. I vaguely remember being in a void as she spoke, and thinking, how do you get a hickey there without someone knowing? The obvious answer crystallized before me, and I imagined Scottie banging away from behind, leaning over her back to suck on her neck. It had to be on purpose, too, he was always trying to convince me she was no good, and this was his message of proof. I then pictured him wickedly smiling over her shoulder, knowing as he busted a nut inside her right then; her ass would be getting busted for it later. When I returned from the void, I was surprised to find a raging hardon to greet me. I put my hands on her cheeks to stop her rambling apology. "Look, it was my idea to see other people, right? It's not like you cheated on me." Her forehead buckled in confusion. "Seriously, I suggest we see other people and then I'm going to hold it against you when you actually do?" She managed a smile, but I could still see a lot of hesitation in her eyes. I asked her to come closer, and then placed her hand on my hard cock. I believe she then understood, or at least understood she could very well be off the hook. I was so fucking horny I couldn't think, period, and ended up naked on the bed as I sucked on her tits––so creamy white in contrast to the tan skin around them––and she stroked my cock vigorously with her small hand. I asked if he'd sucked that bruise onto her neck as he fucked her from behind, while my index finger found her slit. Inserting it caused her to moan, and then her moan trailed into breathed words, "He gave it to me, baby. He really gave it to me from behind, and he took advantage of how out of it I was." I moved her to the middle of the bed, and rolled her up onto all fours. She wasn't wet, not yet, and so I stuck my face into her raised ass and lapped at her pussy while she bit a pillow. Looking at her reddening vulva, I asked if she liked it, then tongued her slit until I felt it tremble. "Oh god! Oooo, baby! I liked it! Unnh! Scottie fucked me and I so liked it." There was cruel intention in her voice. She was quick to figure out this game. As long as she could continue to fuel my kinky desires, she might still keep her man, even after fucking another guy. She became wet enough, and I didn't waste anymore time and pushed my big cock into her. "Just like this, huh? Fucked you just like this?" "Just like that, baby! Oh yeah! Oh god, baby! Take me from behind!" I quickened my pace, and given how quickly she grew wet, even way upside her pussy were my tongue hadn't reached, I knew she got off on this, too. Really got off! Our hips were solidly impacting, and I reached out to touch the hickey as it moved back and forth with her body. Just yesterday his lips were there. I then spread her ass and saw my cock withdrawal from her glistening silk purse and disappear inside again, where just yesterday his cock had been. There was something more I suddenly had to know––if she came. She wouldn't tell me, though. She just wanted me to pump her the way Scottie had. We hadn't been fucking for more than five minutes and then I came, filling up the condom so very deep inside her. *** Once she was certain I wasn't going to throw it back in her face, we talked a lot about her fling with Scottie, and always during sex. She slowly divulged new information, and the anticipation made each night that much hotter. I remember eating her out as she sat on her couch. Her feet were on the coffee-table and I knelt between her legs, and I momentarily broke to ask if she wanted to fuck Scottie while skinny dipping at the pool party. She surprised me by saying that she wanted to fuck him the first night she'd met him at the club. She was glad it ended up being me, but she hadn't gone in search of love that night, just someone to fuck and piss off her boyfriend, and Scottie looked as if he'd give her the kind of fucking she'd feel for days. She squirmed in the couch cushion, while pushing my face against her crotch, so that her neatly trimmed muff roughly scratched my nose. I reciprocated by working my tongue deeper and fingering her clit. "Oh fucking god," was her response to this, and bucked her hips repeatedly until her orgasm subsided. With the bottom half of my face still buried in her drenched bush, I looked up and saw her lustfully smiling at me. "Having fun down there?" "Seems like we're both having fun down here," I said, and used my finger soaked in her juices to draw a twinkling line across her belly. But the bedroom is where I got the good stuff. I learned that she'd met him on Friday night at the TGI Friday's where he bartends, and that he got her drunk enough to reveal we were seeing other people, then took her to his place and fooled around and screwed her on and off until four-o-clock on Saturday morning. As he nailed her from behind, he said he'd known all along that he'd end up fucking her, and I can only assume he planted the hickey on her back shortly thereafter. *** About three weeks after Kelly's slip-up, she and I had an interesting evening back at Club Main, where we'd been invited to celebrate Darren's newest, girlfriend's twenty-fourth birthday. All of their friends were there, which of course included Scottie. And if seeing Scottie for the first time since the dirty deed went down wasn't awkward enough, having Kelly's high school boyfriend there certainly was. He was in town for a week and Kelly had volunteered her apartment as a place to crash. So after two weeks of the most intense, frequent, amazing sex of our lives, this guy shows up and we can barely get away for a kiss. I was horny as fuck, and I knew she was too, and when Kelly is horny, she gets even more flirtatious than usual. Albert, her old flame, was a nice enough guy on military leave, and had just come from visiting his girlfriend in Vermont, who believed he was staying in Santa Monica with a 'Kyle'. Maybe it was the fact that he had a girlfriend, or maybe I'm just the world's biggest fool––but even though Kelly was in a state of amplified horniness and he had plenty of time alone with her, and despite the fact that she'd slept with a man other than me during that same month and had made out with Albert in high school, I just couldn't see anything happening as a result of him sleeping on her couch. It just struck me as unlikely. What annoyed me, however, is that she'd made it her mission to make sure his trip went well, and chauffeured him around to see all their old friends, all of whom had a life-long crush on her. Honestly, I was sick of the guy. I spent most of that night at Club Main talking to Darren and getting to know his new girlfriend, avoiding Scottie and leaving Kelly to introduced Albert to everyone on her own. Eventually Scottie caught up with me, and immediately started ragging on Kelly. He asked who the dude was, and when I explained it was her old boyfriend from high school, he laughed, and told me you just can't trust chicks. I sort of blew him off, but he didn't let it go. "Hey, I've banged enough girls behind their boyfriend's back to know what I'm talking about. Chicks are way bigger dogs than we are! Any bartender will tell you that." I didn't want to push the issue, because I feared he might confess Kelly was on the list of those banged, and that would open up a whole can of worms I didn't ever want to deal with. I finally decided just to joke around. "Well, I did catch Kelly and Albert skinny-dipping in the apartment pool a few times, but that's it." "I bet you did," he said, with a little distain his voice, and then I remembered that he still blamed her for his girlfriend splitting on him at our pool party. "She sure has a way of losing clothes, don't she?" "Ha! And when I busted them skinny-dipping, I yelled, 'That's it, no more skinny-dipping in the pool!' So they got out and climbed into the Jacuzzi to fuck." "Hahaha, that's funny shit, dude. But seriously, I don't mean any disrespect by what I'm saying, but as a friend, I gotta get your back and look out for you. She loves to be the prettiest girl in the room, man, and she'll go right through you to be it. I know it, man. I just...believe me, I just know it." I really had to bite my tongue or I would've told him to mind his own damn business. I finally managed to ditch him and sat at the bar, and from there I could see Kelly fussing with Albert's military hairdo, like she was describing a style better suited for him. Darren walked by her and she gave him a birthday hip-bump with her ass cheek. I got up and walked to her, and whispered into her ear for a favor, which was to go be friendly with Scottie. She gave me a wink, and said, "Sure thing, cowboy." I realized after she left I might have given her the wrong idea. My intention was for her to make conversation and be nice; in hopes he'd end up forgiving her for whatever made him hate her so. Because maybe then I'd get a little peace from his diatribe on inappropriate behavior and wouldn't have to worry about him blabbing he'd fucked her. I took Albert to the bar where he thanked me for being cool about crashing at my girlfriend's house. He seemed a bit depressed, and I asked how his trip was going. The truth was part of him couldn't wait to get back to the base, because everyone saw him as nothing but a solider now, forgetting all about the guy who played football and went to keggers, and none of them understood what it meant to be soldier. He actually felt more like an ex-con than a hero, and the chicks that used to be on him in high school acted more afraid of him than anything. Kelly was one of the few who still seemed to welcome him like old times. I felt bad for the guy, and what he said made it a lot harder to be mad at Kelly for putting him up. As he spoke I'd noticed Kelly pulling Scottie into the dancing crowd by the DJ, and I was now certain she'd gotten the wrong idea. They all but disappeared into the packed crowd, and I knew they were dancing close, because there wasn't space for dancing any other way. Then for a second I saw her red dress glued to his black slacks and shirt. She was drunk, horny as hell, and in full body contact––her ass against his crotch––against that huge dick she'd fucked until four. It was very arousing to watch, although I'll never understand exactly why, and I felt a bulge grow in my pants. I'm pretty sure Albert caught a glimpse of them, but I doubt he knew I had. They danced for about thirty minutes, and she came back to me completely sweaty. She gulped down a margarita and wanted us to go outside and cool off. I asked Albert to give us a minute alone, and took her out front. I grabbed her and kissed her as soon as we got outside. She asked if I'd seen them dancing and I shook my head and let her know how bad I wanted to make love to her. She felt the same way, and said, "If you could only feel how wet my panties are right now. Four more days, baby. Just four more days and then his leave is up." "Fuck him," I said, "Sleep at my place. He'll still have your sofa." "I can't just ditch him there. That wouldn't be right. He'll feel like he's imposing." "He is, and I don't care what he thinks!" I'd let my voice rise, and only afterwards did I realize how many people were walking past us down Main Street. I leaned in close and whispered, "Look, it doesn't bother me when you are outgoing and crazy, or even flirty, or even getting naked in front of people. You know I don't get jealous." "No you don't," she agreed, glancing at my crotch and back to my eyes, "You get something else." "Sort of, but what I'm say-" "Sort of? Ha!" "Sort of, okay. I don't know, you're just so damn hot from head to toe. And you're even hotter to me when I know other guys are seeing it too. And I know you get off on it just as bad." "Yes," she agreed again, but with mischief brewing in her voice. "But you like when they get more than just a peak, don'tchya?" "And you don't?" "Mmmmm." She hummed in my ear, and looking into her blue eyes I could see how incredibly excited dancing had left her, and wondered if any of this was getting through. "What I'm trying to say, Kelly, is that fucking a guy is one thing, but when you go so far out of your way to be compassionate with other people like Albert––and he's a nice enough guy, I'm not saying he isn't––I just get left behind. And just being around you, just having you be there for me when I need you, or when you tell me how much you think of me, those are the things that make me feel better than anything. Those are the things that make me feel loved." "Baby, I love you, you know that. And I'm going to take care of you for the rest of our life." "Then come back to my place tonight." I could tell she'd already made up her mind to do it, yet joked, "But if I go back to your place, who'll be around to fuck Albert?" She not only ended up spending the night at my place, she spent the next four nights there, and we fucked like rabbits the whole time. Scottie came up during our love making, and still provided that extra spice to turn great sex into super sex. She told me she'd snuggled up against his cock on the dance floor, and how it made her tingle to the bone. He'd inquired about her still seeing other people, and telling him no, when only thin material prevented that monster from slipping inside her at that very moment, was pure torture. My Kinky Fiancé Slips Up *** The following Saturday she came over and immediately lay down on my couch, appearing ready for a nap. It was only ten in the morning, and I'd just returned from the gym and wore only my sweat pants. I sat on the floor in front of her and fired up the Xbox, figuring I'd just let her nap awhile. She then commented that she really liked my couch, and that if we were to get a place together we could keep my couch and junk hers. I asked her if she wanted to do that––to get a place together––and she said maybe. Then she brought up what she'd said at the club the other night, and that she really did want to take care of me for the rest of our lives. She then wondered if I'd meant everything I'd said, and I let her know that I did, even though I didn't know exactly what part of our conversation she was alluding to. "Would you be mad if I slept with someone and didn't tell you?" Not being a fan of the hypothetical, I told her, "You're a shitty liar. I'd find out." "True. But still, would it bother you if I kept it a secret until you found out?" "Probably." "Okay then, if I slept with someone and did tell you about it, would that bother you?" "Who'd you fuck, Kelly?" She laughed. "I'm just thinking about what you said the other night. When you said it would be all right for me to sleep with a guy." "I don't remember saying quite that." "Really? What'd you say?" "I think I said-" "Scottie!" "What?" "It was Scottie." "Wait a minute. Wait, wait, wait! You fucked him? Again?" She didn't answer. I flipped off the game and grabbed her leg. I asked her again what she'd meant. She tried to explain it was tough, that we are always talking about him while we did it. Then she brought up how at the club I'd asked her to get friendly with him. I quickly explained exactly what I'd meant by 'friendly', and suddenly realizing her mistake, faintly cried, "Oops!" I honestly didn't know how to react. She had just told me she'd flat out cheated, yet it registered a lot less sever than it sounded. There was some jealousy, but it was convoluted with so many more powerful feelings––mischievous feelings. Her eyelashes were wet and turned into black stars, a phenomenon that always made her look preciously sad, but her voice was fine, and by the way she lay there so unemotional, I realized she was as equally confused about things. "So is this it? Are you going to kick me out and call me names?" "I don't think so. But I really don't know." Putting her hand on mine, she said, "It was weird––I mean while it was happening I kept thinking I'd need to remember everything so I can tell you about it later. It almost felt like you were watching me––like you were right behind me telling me what to do. It was sooo weird." We sat there for another twenty minutes, quietly lost in our scrambled feelings, until she finally told me exactly what happened. Scottie had sent her a text message that read, 'Meet me!' She texted him back, saying she couldn't, and told me she was afraid he'd intended to profess his love for her and god did she not want to hear that. Then yesterday he showed up at the saloon and took an appointment for a haircut. He didn't say anything as she sprayed his head with warm water and ran her fingers through his thick, black, sudsy hair. He remained practically silent as she circled around him combing out sections of his hair to be snipped, even when she had to lean against his leg to cut his bangs. What he did was watch her every move, and she started to feel his eyes as they crept across her body. Wearing the blue blouse with a little visible cleavage seemed like a good choice that morning, but not anymore. When she was done, he politely asked her to lunch, but she had another appointment and said she couldn't. He then offered to wait for her, and she caved, saying, "Fine, but we're just having lunch." For the next forty minutes he sat in the lobby area and continued to watch her work. She could feel his eyes on her ass as she bent over to wash the client's hair, knowing that he could see her pink panties where her jeans buckled at the top. He made no attempt to hide his eyes, and every time she looked back at him, he gave her a pleased confident smile. About halfway through the haircut he'd stopped staring and began talking to Cathy, their receptionist, and she was obviously hot for him. Kelly realized she'd grown slightly excited, and once his eyes left her, she found herself craving them. When she finished with her client, Scottie walked her to his car, and butterflies took over her stomach. She knew he'd make a move at some point, and she knew she'd better be ready to say no when he did. They headed towards a little mom and pop sandwich shop she liked, and as they looked over the menu board, she realized the butterflies weren't going to let her eat a thing. When he asked her what she'll have and found out she wasn't hungry, he announced he wasn't all that hungry either. He then offered to go some place quiet and hang out and talk for a bit, maybe even grab a drink, and she found herself really wishing she could conjure up an appetite and prevent that from happening. They ended up on the patio of some Bistro with two mojitos. He politely made conversation, never looking away from her eyes and relentlessly treating her to his confident satisfied smiled. There happened to be another couple who was full of tattoos, and he began to make her laugh by joking that he'd planned on getting a bunch of ridiculous shit, like koala bears and Teletubbies. And as he was saying this, he pulled up his T-shirt sleeve and pointed to the spot on his shoulder where he'd put a unicorn, and then he lifted up his T-shirt to reveal where a Pikachu would go on his chest. It was an obvious ploy to show off his body, but none the less, it had the intended effect on her. Scottie was an extremely good looking guy with an incredible physic, and she felt like a stupid fool for allowing such a cheap trick to get to her, but she just couldn't help it. She had to cross her arms to keep from touching him, and she ordered another mojito to calm her nerves, even though she still had an afternoon appointment. For his last joke he stood up and started to unfasten the buttons on his jeans. "Let me show you were I'm going to put the whale form Save Willie!" His crotch was head height with her now, and less than an arms length away. Laughing, partly at the joke and partly due to embarrassment, she reached out and grabbed his hands to stop him from going any further on the patio of a restaurant. He sat back down, but the damage had been done. Her eyes were coerced to where the shape of his big dick could be detected through his jeans, and her pussy tingled like mad at the sight of it. In her mind she escaped to her bedroom, where she and I sat on her bed as she told me how badly she wanted that monster plunged into her. She was losing it, and she felt the need to remind him that nothing could happen between them. He claimed that was fine, but that confident smile of his told her otherwise. They'd been together for an hour, and she let him know she needed to get back soon. He asked when her next appointment was, and she leaked the truth––that it actually wasn't until three. She immediately hated herself for not lying, and knowing he had her for another hour made his smile grew more confident than ever. He paid up and they left, and as he pulled his Bronco out of the parking lot, he claimed to know the perfect spot for killing time. It didn't take her long to figure out she was being driven to her own apartment, and she immediately told him no. He took her hand, and assured her he wasn't planning anything funny and was just out of ideas. Then they were parked, he stepped around to her side of the car, opened her door, and she took his hand and got out. Inside her place she poured them some orange juice, and before she returned with it he'd wandered from the couch to her bedroom and was sitting on her bed. She walked in, shaking her head, and when she handed him his juice, he grabbed her wrist and tugged it lightly, suggesting that she should take a seat. She did. That was it. She was sitting on her bed next to him. There was no way to deny what was about to happen and there was no way out––not anymore. They set the juice down and kissed, and then leaned back onto the bed. He peeled his shirt off, and then peeled off her blouse. Minutes later she had his cock in her mouth, sucking it like it was her life support, and she truly hated herself for it. He mentioned he had a present for her, grabbing for his pants on the floor. He fished around in the pocket and pulled out a string of four condoms, and dangled them before her. Minutes later he banged her so hard she cried for mercy. She looked into her mirrored closet doors, seeing their profile as they fucked. She saw herself on her back, and he clutched her tiny ankles in his strong hands, opening her legs as he slammed his pelvis into hers, and forced that monster inside. She imagined I was there and that the mirror was my view of the action, and speaking to it, she asked if I liked what I saw. Scottie had to answer for me, saying, "You bet your hot little ass!" All the teasing he'd done to get her there had put her body in an electrified state, and finally having Scottie's lady killer tapping her juices like a ripe oil well was enough to put her near orgasm, even though they'd only been going at it for five minutes. But what she witnessed in the mirror––how his huge frame totally dominated her, and her small hands ineffectively pushed against his broad chest, while his back and triceps twitched and moved under his skin, and his squared off ass desperately slammed down between her legs, sending her helplessly into the mattress so hard that she couldn't keep her head still––it was this removed image of herself fucking that brought on a total mental collapse, along with wave of spasms up her thighs and deep into her pussy, followed by a fresh flooding of juice. As it happened, she spoke beyond the mirror to me, and watching her own face get overtaken by her orgasm, she shouted, "Oh god, Scottie, I'm coming. Oh my god, fuck me, fuck me, Scottie, fuck me. You're so deep. You're so big and deep and I'm coming so hard. Don't stop. Please, god, don't stop. I'm coming. I'm coming soooo hard." As her first orgasm passed it only left her wanting more, but they were fucking against the clock, and so he soon clawed her ass, drove his massive steamship deep into her tiny exotic port, and unloaded a high volume of cargo. She looked into his belligerent face while he laboriously grunted for a full minute and pumped cum into a condom jammed way up inside her. He pulled out and rolled her over, then slapped his big hand onto her butt, and shook her cheek violently as he yelled, "Goddamn I love fucking your ass. Whooooo!" He sprung off the bed and ditched the condom in the trash, while Kelly rolled back over and lay still, with her chest heaving and heartbeat racing. Scottie still had his confident smile and began stretching his back and arms. "Shit, I'm actually starting to sweat." He had her get up on her knees, as he held her by the hand and looked her over. "You are so slamming hot." Leading with his hand, he brought her up to standing on the bed. "I knew I was going to fuck you again. No girl can get off like you did and then leave it alone." He ran his hands along her curves while she reminded him of the time––she really needed to get back. Before he let her off the bed, he asked, "You've been thinking about me, huh? And don't lie!" She didn't, admitting she had, but then failed to tell him that on at least twenty occasions I'd helped bring her off as she relived the night his horse-cock ravaged her. But apparently she didn't have to mention it, because he then grabbed his softening dick and said, "I got it where it counts, and you love it, huh? And, man, there's so much we haven't even done, yet." The very thought made her weaken all over again. He then grabbed her hips and shouted that he fucking loved her tight little body. He bit the skin on her hip as she put her hands in his hair. He put his face into her neatly trimmed, dirty-blonde muff and shouted that he loved her tight little pussy. He put his hands on her waist and rolled his face in her pubs, growling and snarling, which made her giggle. He then pushed her back on the bed and got his face between her legs, and his tongue in her still swollen, wet slit. "I gotta get back!" she pleaded. He popped his head up and complained that she made him miss lunch and proceeded to devour her cooch, making a lot of noise. Despite the silliness, he'd lit up her pussy again. He ended up handing her the cell phone from her jeans pocket and she called the saloon to cancel on her next client. She requested that he be good while she call, and he agreed, although she didn't trust the look in his eye. Sure enough, as soon as Cathy picked up the phone, he went back to work with his tongue. Kelly told her something came up, to which Cathy contested, "Don't lie, girl, I saw who came up." Cathy then had to find the client's name on the chart, and when the number wasn't there, she had to look through the record sheets, as Kelly talked her through it. Meanwhile, Scottie had worked two fingers into her pussy just past his round second knuckle, vigorously giving Kelly a massage from the inside out. The pleasure it caused worked itself into Kelly's voice, and she had to concentrate hard to maintain composure on the phone. She attempted to close her legs and push him away, but the strength difference between them was ridiculous, and he wasn't giving it up. She held her hand over the receiver, "Uhn! Goddamn! You are so evil!" When Cathy couldn't find the number, Kelly finally got some relief by sending Scottie into the other room for her purse. She opened it, pulled out her address book, and thumbed though the pages, as he put on a condom, threw her legs apart, gave a really mean smile, and pushed his cock into her near boiling flesh. She got off the phone just in time, and for the second time that day he pumped ten inches balls deep into her snug little body. She traveled down the runway and soared towards heaven. Then on her knees, with her ass in the air and her face in a pillow, she looked at the mirrored sliding doors of the closet, and saw herself with him behind her, at least eighty pounds more of him than her, with her ass looking helpless in his strong hands. She was mesmerized by the sight of his fat cock appearing form between her cheeks, and the frightening realization of just how huge it looked and how far inside her it would submerge. But this she already knew, because she felt every inch of its path spring to life as it did. He caught her watching in the mirror, and he let go of her ass, and said, "Come on, fuck me!" He then spanked her ass several times until she moved her hips in a rhythm that pleased him. "Look at that, babe," he said to her reflection, "Look how awesome you look with me going in. There isn't a damn thing in the world prettier than that. Look at it, look at all that cock I'm giving you. Look at your face, baby. Look how it makes you feel." And she looked, and all she could think was that she'd have sold her soul for me to witness the spectacle at hand. An hour later they lay sweaty in her bed gasping for air. He got up to get them water, and she thought enough to grab her cell phone, cover her face with her hand, and snap a picture in the mirror. It showed her lying naked and sweaty on the bed, having just been fucked for second time. That picture became a present for me. She then text messaged her friends, saying she couldn't meet up later, and he called a buddy to cover his shift at the bar––describing his illness on a scale of one to ten, as a ten. His buddy caught his meaning, but didn't believe him, and demanded to see a picture of the girl as proof. After he hung up, Kelly let him know a picture wasn't going to happen. With several quick breaks, and one long one for diner, although she still couldn't find an appetite to eat anything, they managed to keep the sexual frenzy going until three in morning. At one point, while trying over and over again to deep-throat him, she blew him for twenty minutes straight, a new record for her. She swallowed his cum when he finally climaxed, and if she'd swallowed it once, he knew she'd do it again. So later, when he hammered her snatch towards one last violent crescendo, and he felt himself verging on the final note, he pulled out, spun her around and unloaded on the back of her tongue. She my have lost her appetite, but she certainly had her fill of dinner. That was the detailed account of their night together, which she leaked to me over a two month time period, and did it in a way that left me always wanting more. The first details came the morning she confessed to a slip-up, which had been only seven hours after the last of his semen had trickled down her throat, and probably still sat in her digestive track as we talked––a fact I'd been completely oblivious to at the time. *** More for the joke of it than anything, I checked the back of Kelly's neck for a hickey the day after she'd seen Scottie, but found nothing. Apparently he wasn't so interested in her getting caught anymore. I've had many ideas about what that meant, and the only thing that makes sense, is that he loved her. It's the only way to explain why he resented her for going out with me, and why he blamed her for his breakup. Scottie's not a stupid guy, however, and despite believing himself a good lay, if not the best, he knew who he really was, and the good lay came with a huge ego and a rotten habit of using people. Kelly, while fond of herself, saw life with an almost juvenile innocence, believing everyone was wonderful and bending over backwards to earn their affection in return. That self-sacrificing nature, I believe, meant the two of them in a relationship could only result in him laying to waste every part of her, as his ego exerted total control. Most likely aware of this, I think Scottie felt content with the one small piece of Kelly he currently had, being the occasional piece of ass––and something he'd apparently thought was his for the asking! Kelly received a text message while lying on her bed in nothing but her pink panties and big light blue tee-shirt, and put down the book she was reading to check it out. "Guess who just sent me a text?" I was on a step ladder trying to hang her closet door. "He's persistent, I'll give him that much. What's it say?" "'Thinking of you!' And then he added a link. I swear to god if he sent me some porn I'm gonna be totally pissed!" She only had a basic cell phone, so she grabbed her laptop and returned to her bed, positioning herself between the stacks of clothes pulled from the closet. She popped it open and waited for boot up. The first of his text messages came two weeks after what we began referring to as 'a lay and a haircut'. When he'd texted Kelly then, he said he was due for another haircut, and wanted to book an entire afternoon for it. She called me the minute the message came and asked me what to do. "Tell him you can't," I said, to which she remarked, "You mean like last time?" I then asked if I should intervene, but she didn't want for Scottie and me to become like that. She finally told him they could maybe meet up sometime next week, but not right then, and when next week rolled around, she put it off again. That seemed to stroke his ego enough to keep him at bay, and although neither of us admitted it outright, that's exactly where we wanted him, at least until we sorted our weird shit out. "Hey," she exclaimed, while starring at the webpage displayed on her laptop screen, "Come look at this."