16 comments/  30831 views/  11 favorites

Ginger and Chris Ch. 01

By: WatchesGinger



The first time I watched Ginger have an orgasm with another man was on a dance floor in a club. They'd been dancing together for a while. She'd singled him out, dancing with him early on, moving on to others, but eventually returning and focusing on him. 

She had her right leg wrapped partially around his left, her dangerously-high high-heel planted on the floor behind him. He was leaning back at the waist, left hand firmly on her lower back, holding her against him as he pumped his hips toward her. I noticed their rhythm was slightly out of synch with the music just then, and realized what she was doing. She had her left hand on his right shoulder. Her right hand, initially on his waist, moved to his left forearm as her own hip thrusts quickened in pace. She gripped his forearm tightly, her glossy nails dug in to his skin, and her head lolled back slightly to expose her neck, glistening with sweat. The lights pulsed, the music throbbed, and my wife came as another guy dry-fucked her right before my eyes. I saw her mouth fall open and suppose she cried out, but the crowd and the music drowned out any sound she may have made before it reached my ears.

This wasn't how I'd imagined it would go in all the years of cuckolding fantasy, first with my former wife, and then with Ginger. Not in my thoughts since she'd finally made it a reality some 9 months prior, either. No, it hadn't gone like this in my head. I suppose that's why fantasy is fantasy. 

Don't get me wrong. I wasn't complaining. It was still hot to watch...incredibly hot. My cock, pulsing along steadily beneath the table for the past few hours as I watched her dancing, had begun to throb in earnest as I realized what was happening. I have come to equate my cuckold experiences with that old line about blow jobs. There is no such thing as a bad one, only varying degrees of good ones.

This insight comes only with experience, I believe. That night in the club marked a whole new level in my relationship with Ginger. Passion, lust, jealousy, and anger rose to new heights between the two of us in the months that would follow.

The trip to the club that early spring night had its beginnings back in the fall. Ginger had been cuckolding me with increasing frequency since the summer. We'd each become more comfortable as the months passed and the number of guys she slept with, or in her own words, "the number of guys who fucked me", increased. She likes my reaction when she speaks harshly.

That fall night, she picked up a guy in a hotel bar as I watched, our favored M.O. After learning he was local to the area, she had me get them a room. The details, one of our hotter experiences, are included in "Ginger Picks Up the Pace" for those interested. 

What set us off on a new path, however, was the decreased time between her finishing with him and starting with me. Typically she would leave the guy, get a cab, and come home to me. This time I hung around the bar and was with her only a few minutes after he left, however. Her creampie was much "fresher" than our previous encounters as a result, her lover's cum still visible and thick at the base of her slit. Seeing me go down on her in this state had clearly brought her arousal to new a new level, and had set her to thinking how best to repeat (or even improve) the experience.

"You want to watch me, Thomas?" she had asked, out of the blue, as we finished breakfast before work the Wednesday after that encounter. 

Our schedules varied, but we typically found time once or twice a week to get up, have some breakfast and drive in together. We have some of our best, and certainly most interesting, conversations these mornings.

Being only 2/3 of the way through my first cup of coffee, I had no idea what she was talking about.

"Watch you what, babe?"

She blushed slightly, a rarity in talking about this part of our lives, and gave a short laugh. "Ummmmm...YOU know...WATCH me...?"

Being the quick-study that I am, I still had to think about it. She threw one hip out to the side, feigning frustration.

"Oh...Ohhhhhhh. Hmmm." I typically catch up, eventually.

She cocked her head at me in a question. It's one of those little things she does often, in lieu of words, that made me fall in love with her. She's damn cute when she does it.

"I....jeez, I haven't thought much about it. I mean, I think I'd like to, but..."

She just continued to look at me, content to let me work it out on my own.

"The thing is...I really LIKE how we've been doing things...how it's been going. But I also still get that feeling inside while I watch you in the bars before you leave with a guy. I compare them to me, and in my mind they always come out ahead. Better looking, better bodies, funnier, more engaging. 

All of it gets pushed aside by the excitement I feel, and then when you come home later and are the way you are with me, it makes everything fine again. But ...I don't know how it'd be if I was actually watching you with someone, considering how I feel seeing you with them fully-clothed."

She walked across the kitchen to me, heels clicking on the tile. She pulled in close and put her arms around my neck. I breathed her in, soap, shampoo, baby oil, and perfume mixed together in a light and intoxicating scent.

"Thomas..." she said, looking in to my eyes. "I don't candy-coat anything with you, right?"

I shook my head.

"We agreed we wouldn't when we started this, right?"

"Yes." I replied.

"You still OK with that?"

"Of course." I answered, suddenly unsure.

"OK. So first, I have NEVER been with anyone who is better looking than you. Not once. Not since we started this, not since I met you, not ever that I remember."

I felt my face flush. She didn't lie to me, at least that I knew of, but it was hard for me to hear and believe what she was saying.

As if she knew what I was thinking, she continued. "I won't lie to you Thomas. I can't prove it, but you'll have to trust me on that. Now, I HAVE been with guys who have better bodies than you. And I've been honest with you every time you ask about their, um...equipment."

She couldn't suppress her small smile as she said that last bit.

"And I purposely pick guys who are engaging and funny, 'cause that's the kind of guy I like talking to. But again, none of the guys I've met have been "more" of those than you. Some different, but no one I'd say is "more" than you."

She gazed up in to my eyes.

"OK. Thanks for that." I said.

She kissed me lightly, pulled away, it was time for us to get on the road.

"I don't know how to get you over those feelings, baby." she continued as we got in the car and headed to work. "But I do know I'd love for you to be there and watch. I mean, I would REALLY love it."

"I'll give it some thought, Gin...I'd like to if you'd really enjoy it." I answered.

We rode in silence for a bit. 

"Let's both think on it, see what we come up with." she said as I pulled in front of her building. She leaned over, kissed me, then hiked up her skirt as she stepped out of the car, giving me a great shot of her panties.

I beeped the horn in protest, she waggled her ass at me and walked away.

To her credit, she didn't push it hard after we initially talked about it. She continued to bring it up in conversation though. She also started to sprinkle it in as she'd tell me about her nights out and coax me along as we had sex, trying to help me get my head around the idea.

Lying on my back in our bed for instance, her legs splayed on either side of my head as she dipped her cum-filled slit over my mouth, she'd ask "I know you like cleaning me up, baby...but don't you wanna see them fill me up, too?"

Or just after I'd fucked her to orgasm, she'd look up at me, all innocent and wide-eyed, and say "Mmm...you like watching me cum, don't you baby? Mmmm hmmmm...I know you do...you love to see me get off...it would be the same, Thomas...maybe better...watching me get off while someone else fucks me..."

Of course, at these moments, I readily agreed with her. It would be hot. I did love to watch her cum. It would definitely turn me on to watch her get off on another guy. If I could only get past the jealousy.

I worked on it too. Watching her in bars as they approached her, seeing them sit with her, staring mesmerized when she'd touch their arms, or let their hands slip beneath the hem of her skirt, I tried to stop comparing myself to them and instead focus on her, concentrate only on how much she enjoyed doing it.

It was helping. I told myself that, for me at least, this was all about her pleasure, and focusing on that helped a lot.

The winter months drifted by. The frequency of our outings, and the pace of guys she hooked up with, slowed down a bit. This was mostly due to weeknights being the best nights for hooking up with guys traveling on business and staying in hotels nearby. We had to back off the weeknights however, as working the day after an intense night was barely tolerable.

She started to explore a few cuckolding sites in more earnest, setting up profiles and messaging back and forth with some guys. We also started taking the adult dating sites she'd signed up for more seriously and found a few good candidates to compliment the random bar hook-ups.

Something else became evident. She was hitting the gym harder. Not that she was fat before, but she was tightening things up.

I guess I also noticed, but didn't realize, was how her skin was getting paler. It was winter so somewhat natural, but she typically tried to keep some color year round, taking advantage of warmer winter days (which to me is all of them down here) to catch what sun she could. 

The lightness of her skin really hit me one day as she stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, fresh from a shower. 

"Gonna need shades the first time I see you in a bikini this summer." I chided her.

She gave a wicked little smile. "You finally noticed?" she asked.

I was puzzled. "Mmmm...I guess I noticed before, but it didn't occur to me. Suddenly concerned about skin cancer?"

She chuckled. "No...I guess it's not a bad idea, but that's not why." She left me hanging.

I walked to her, pulled her close to me, stroked her shoulders and back, feeling her now tighter muscles beneath her skin, and said "Huh...losing that baby-fat I love so much...staying out of the sun all of a sudden...what's up with you?"

"It's a surprise." she answered.

"Hmmm...and how can I get you to reveal this surprise?"

She ignored me, instead letting her hands fall to undo my pants and push them down as she lowered herself to her knees.

"Don't try to change the subject." I said halfheartedly.

Still ignoring me, she took my growing cock in to her mouth, began working it with her hand, and turned her eyes up toward me. 

I don't know that I've mentioned it previously, but Ginger gives amazing head. Typically I'm caught up in pleasing her, and that coupled with my only having one shot in the gun when we have sex makes it a rarity for her to finish me off in that way. But when she does, oh man.

I expected her to stop before I came so that we could move to the bed and get her more involved, but instead she picked up the intensity. Within a minute, my knees were buckling and I exploded in her mouth. I watched her throat work, listened to the soft "mmmm...mmmm...mmm" sounds she made, swallowing greedily as she sucked the last drops from me. Then she pulled back, kissed my deflating head softly, and stood up.

I began to push her toward the bed, intending to return the favor, but she placed a hand on my chest and shook her head.

"Huh-uh...that one was all for you baby..." she whispered, then turned away to get dressed.

I stood in a post-orgasm stupor, watching her. My mind cleared after a few minutes.

"That didn't make me forget about the surprise." I said defiantly. Of course it had, at least for a few minutes.

"What surprise?" she asked simply. Though she had her back to me, I knew she was smiling.

The surprise, or at least the start of it, was this night in the club. I had begun to grasp an inkling of it early this morning.

I'd been in Dallas on business since Tuesday and was supposed to return Thursday, last night. Weather delays turned that in to a nightmare and I'd staggered home after 2 this morning. Ginger had been sleeping soundly. I'd collapsed in to bed and must have fallen straight to sleep.

I awoke slowly with the sensation of being watched some hours later. I opened my eyes and sat up with a start, heart suddenly hammering. There was a strange blonde standing over me by the bed.

"Shh...shh...it's me baby..." Ginger whispered, placing a hand on my shoulder.

She had dyed her hair again. Blonde this time. And I mean BLONDE, like platinum blonde. She was dressed for work. She sat on the edge of the bed.

"You didn't wake me last night, or I'd have shown you." she said.

"It was late." I said foggily, letting my fingers glide through it near her ear. "You look great."

She smiled. "It's too dark for you to know how it looks...you're just trying to get in my panties." she told me.

She was right. I pulled her closer, but she pulled away and stood. "Huh uh...you're in the middle of your 24-hour hold, Thomas."

My 24-hour hold meant she planned to find a guy, and since I was in the middle of it, I guessed it would be tonight.

She looked down at me, a pleased smile on her face as she noticed the bulge mid-way down my body. Just the thought made me rock-hard almost instantly.

"Why the hair, Gin?" I asked, mainly because I wanted to keep her there and nothing else came to mind.

She bent to kiss me, a soft and lingering kiss, then whispered, "It's time for your surprise..."

Then she left. I watched her go, then thought a while and pieced together the clues. Pale skin, platinum blonde hair. Before she had started to cuckold me for real, she'd done some studying and come across a lot of interracial themes. We'd spent some time talking through the things I liked, and I'd admitted that seeing black guys with white girls was a major turn-on, particularly the contrast of dark against light skin. Now I wondered. Her first time, the thing that had started us off on her cuckolding me, had been with a black guy. She'd been with two more since, but mostly it was white guys who hit on her and so who it was white guys she hooked up with. Pale skin...blonde hair...she wants me to watch her with a guy. The only thing I couldn't figure was the working out. Her body had been fine before, why the working out? I was still missing something.

I thought I'd have trouble getting back to sleep in the state she'd left me, but exhaustion won out. I woke again just before 10, sleeping later than I intended. I roused myself, tried unsuccessfully to not think of Ginger, and made it to the office by 11.

She sent me a text picture message after lunch time. The text said "Sarah thought you should see what you missed last night." with a smiley face. In the picture, she stood outside in the sun, all high heels and mini skirt and tight-fitting blouse, sunglasses, jacket hanging on a finger over one shoulder, bright blonde hair shining in the sunlight. Sarah must have taken the picture for her. I gazed at it for a long minute, wondering what was in store for the evening.

She called shortly after. I answered with "Geezus, Gin..."

She laughed, then covered the phone. "Hey Sar...about what we expected..." I heard them both laughing. She came back on the phone.

"Sarah thought you'd like that." she said playfully.

"She was right. What's going on tonight?" I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"That's what I'm calling about. You going to work late?"

"Well, I slept a bit and got here late, so I have some catching up, but it's nothing critical. I'd rather see you." I said.

"No...it's OK. What I want to do..." she let it linger for a few seconds. "We should start that a bit later anyway. And...hang on a sec..."

There was a pause, I head a door close. My heart thudded in anticipation, I thought she was about to start talking about her plans for tonight.

Instead she said "Sorry...had to get in a room...anyway, I'm going to take Sarah out for a couple of drinks and talk to her. Things aren't going so good with Jeff, and I think she needs a few laughs."

"Oh...OK. Well, I can stay and get some things done then. Want me to meet you somewhere?" I answered.

"Mmmm...meet me at home. I need to go on home and change anyway. We don't need to leave until after 9."

"What are we doing?" I ventured.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she teased in reply. "I just hope you're not too tired after your trip...it's gonna be a late night, Thomas."

I became aware of my cock, yet again on the rise.

"So I'll be home around 9?" I said.

"Or a little earlier...you know...if you want to help me get dressed." And then a click and she was gone.

I sat back in my chair, trying to think of something to douse my hard-on, when my phone buzzed with another text. "Love you baby..."

I sent her a "back at you" and then tried to re-focus on work.

The rest of the day dragged. My heart was thumping when I walked in the house around 8:40. There were just a few of the dim lights we keep on at night lit the downstairs. Light spilled from the hall to the landing at the top of the steps, and I headed up to our room.

The bedroom door stood open. "Gin?" I said as I walked in.

Today's outfit was piled on the floor by the bed. A dress...if you could call it a dress, was spread out on the bed. A pair of shoes, with what looked like long straps and very high heels, sat on the floor next to today's clothing.

"In here baby...be right out." she called from the bathroom.

"How's everything with Sarah?" I asked, walking to the bed, picking up the dress. There was hardly anything to it.

"Not so good...let's not talk about that now..." she answered.

I was a but mesmerized by the dress, didn't notice she'd stepped in to the room. Her voice behind me gave me a little start.

"You like?" she asked.

I dropped the dress, felt a bit like a kid caught peeking somewhere he shouldn't be, and turned around quickly.

She stood in the bathroom doorway, nude except for black panties. They rode over her hips, the sides splitting in to two strings. They dipped between her legs, a thin strip barely covering her slit. They were tight, I could see her clearly defined lips beneath them. She had shaved herself completely.

She appraised my look, a knowing smile on her lips. "Thought you'd like these."

She padded barefoot across the room to me, stood close, and I picked up her scent, amazingly arousing as always. 

"I asked if you liked the dress, Thomas." she said a bit firmly.

I nodded. I did, but I wondered about going out in it. As much as I liked her to dress sexy, neither of us was 21 anymore, and the dress was, well, hardly a dress.

"Do you?" she asked. "I want you to be honest with me. Because the last time I wore a club outfit with you, I could tell you didn't like it, but you wouldn't say so."

I knew what she was talking about, but it had been years ago. She came to Washington DC to see me once while I was on a business trip. I was still married, she was in the middle of her wild days. She'd brought an outfit that she wore to clubs, a sparkling silver number that left nothing to the imagination. She'd looked great in it, but I couldn't imagine her going out in public like that. I have a lousy poker face. She'd concluded that I didn't like it on her. So she'd changed. 

"Ginger...damn...that was a long time ago, and it's not that I didn't like it..." I started.

She put a finger over my lips. I noticed her nails, long tips, lacquered in a fresh french manicure, my favorite.

"I know Thomas, and we don't need to talk about that. What I asked was, do you like this dress?"


Ginger and Chris Ch. 01



She was being stern, controlling. I loved it.

"Yes, of course I do. I'd like to see it on you."

She smiled and stepped back, then looked me up and down.

"You need to change baby. I put something out for you." She nodded toward my side of the bed. I hadn't even seen them. Black jeans, a dark gray button down shirt. My black boots on the floor.

She picked up the dress, returned to the bathroom. I changed, looked up as I wrestled the jeans up over my semi-hardness to see her emerge from the bathroom. Now I understood the working out.

The dress was black, two straps coming down from her neck, joining two cross straps just above her breasts. A v-neck began at the cross straps, plunging down beneath her breasts, exposing about a third of each of them. The rest was a sheath of shiny black fabric ending at the top of her thighs. A fabric ring on each hip gathered the fabric, so that pulled it tight at the hem, making it cling tightly. She watched me, turned around slowly. It came down just below her ass, tight from her waist down. The contrast, pitch black fabric against her stark white skin, nearly white hair hanging loose over the shoulder straps,looked incredible.

She finished her slow spin, stood looking at me. I licked my lips, my mouth was suddenly dry. She cocked her head in question to me.

"Uhhhhh...yea...I like the dress." I stammered. I was still a little worried about going out in it. She read it on my face.

"But?"

I didn't want to say the wrong thing. I thought a bit, then asked "Where are we going?"

Understanding dawned on her face. "Ahhhh....I see. Don't worry...where we're going, I'll look right at home." she answered. "Now...put my shoes on for me."

We switched positions, she sat on the edge of the bed, and I knelt down. She placed a foot on my thigh, let it drift over my crotch. I could see directly up between her legs. 

"Focus, baby...my shoes. I wanna get going." she said.

The shoes were a mess of straps. I managed to slip the first one over her toes, nails lacquered to match her fingertips, but I struggled to figure out the long straps. She bent to help, showed me how to criss-cross them up over her ankles and calves and secure them. They extended about two-thirds of the way to her knees. I noticed how high the heels were then, at least 4 inches, maybe more.

Finished, I stood, and she held out her hand. I pulled her up, and she came eye-level with me. Yes, at least 4 inch heels. I stepped back, her outfit complete. 

"How do I look?" 

A thought popped in my head and I smiled.

"What?" she said.

"You look like a slut." I answered.

She squinted her eyes at me. "Perfect then." she said. She walked past me, and asked as she passed, "Do you really like the dress?" It sounded like a serious question and so deserved a smart-ass answer, I thought.

"Well...it'd look better on the floor next to the bed." I answered.

She stopped and turned, biting her bottom lip to hold back her smile. "Well...you'll get to see it how you like it later then."

Turns out it didn't wind up on the floor next to a bed until much, much later.

We drove to the club, somewhere I'd never been. She told me a little about the area, how she'd had to come down a few nights and drive around to make sure she'd still know where to go since she hadn't been here in so long. She directed me to a parking lot across from a building with a line out the front. She'd been right about the dress...if anything hers was in the more conservative set of outfits, judging by the women waiting to get in.

"We could have come earlier and avoided the line, but nothing gets interesting until later anyway, and Sarah needed some company." she explained as we joined the line. 

A thought occurred to me, the one time I'd gone to a night club with some younger guys from work in NYC. I told her to wait, walked around to the guys at the door. Big dudes, they eyed me warily as I approached.

"Any bottle tables available?" I asked. I didn't know if that was the right term, but they looked me over again, nodded. I went back and got Ginger, they let us through, and a hostess met us inside the door.

"Look at you, baby!" Ginger shouted above the music, squeezing my forearm. "You've done this before!" She was teasing me. 

We were led to a high-top table at the edge of the dance floor, ordered a bottle of vodka, which appeared quickly with a host of set-ups once I'd handed over my card.

And that was where I had been sitting ever since, sipping on vodka tonics while watching my wife (mostly), looking forward to her brief trips over to have a drink and catch her breath.

I watched as she steadied herself on him, pulling away after her orgasm. The music changed. She turned and made her way over to the table. I readied a drink for her, handed it to her as she slid on to the high stool next to me. She leaned in close, kissed my cheek. Her eyes were sparkling, she was having a great time.

I nodded toward the floor, leaned to her ear so she could hear me. "Looks like someone had herself a nice little shiver." I said.

She beamed. "So you saw that?!" she said back.

"How could I miss it?"

She eyed me, glanced across the dance floor at a few younger girls, each wearing less than her. "I saw your little school-girl friend..." she said, letting it hang out there.

A little while ago, two girls stopped by, eying the bottle and empty chair. One of them asked if I was chaperoning my daughter,and both of them giggled drunkenly. Yea, OK, I wasn't the youngest guy in the club. I just smiled at them, no sense inciting them further.

One of them stepped closer to me. "She's just messing with you." she yelled above the music. "You want to buy us a drink?" She was wearing a school-girl's white leggings to her knees, high-heeled Mary-Janes, a plaid skirt that exposed the bottom swell of her ass, and a tight white button down blouse that hung open over a black lace bra, held together only by a thick black patent leather belt cinched tightly around her waist.

"Sorry." I said back, nodded to the empty chair. "That seat's taken."

Her friend cackled "TOLD you he was chaperoning he daughter!" She laughed and pushed off through the crowd.

The school girl stepped closer still, so that my knees touched her hips. "Don't mind her." She put a hand on my thigh. I figured her for 25, tops. "Seriously now...if you change your mind....I like an older guy, k?" 

I didn't know if I was being solicited or if she was serious. "Really, that's nice..but no thanks."

She shrugged, spun and walked on to the floor. I watched her ass as she went, then turned back to Ginger. She was focused on the guy she was dancing with, so I hadn't thought she'd seen it.

School-girl had looked my way a few times since then, I couldn't help but notice. She looked our way now, probably feeling us both looking at her. She didn't look away, just kept dancing, watching us watch her. She was something else.

"Damn Thomas...we might could get you laid..." Ginger said, her southern drawl peaking through in her own drunken state. She turned back to me with a smile. I was surprised, she didn't typically like girls hitting on me. Like I said, she was having a great time.

I leaned toward her and said "I thought I was already getting laid tonight." 

She nodded. "That's right...you are!" She slid off her stool, stepped close and put her lips on my ear, and whisper-shouted "You're just gonna have to wait your turn..." She slugged back her drink and drifted back to the floor, finding her partner and settling back in with him.

The night moved on. I watched Ginger intently, sneaking glances at the school girl now and then, fixing Ginger's drinks when she'd come by for a break, the steady throbbing always in my pants. There were no more dance-floor orgasms, but not for the guy's lack of trying. He was all over her, and she let him pretty much touch as he pleased, several times looking my way while his hands glided over her body. She'd rebuff him when he tried to get them inside her dress though, enjoying the tease on him as much as the tease she was putting on me.

He was a few inches taller than her even in her heels. His skin was dark black, taught against his muscular build. I wondered a bit if she'd chosen him because he was so dark. Earlier on, she'd danced with several guys, as I mentioned. She quickly ignored any white guy who approached her, seemingly intent on finding a black guy. It seemed once this was clear, a half-dozen or so black guys tried to move in. This guy had the darkest skin of all. He was also, much as I hated to admit it, pretty nice looking and pretty well built. Jealousy tugged at me, and I fought it by focusing on her, seeing how much fun she was having. 

She came over to the table again, breathless, skin shining with sweat. I handed her drink over. She kissed me.

"You gonna be OK to drive baby?" she asked.

"I'm good." I said. We were about halfway through the bottle, but I'd been sipping. She'd actually had most of it. 

"K...we're gonna get out of here soon." she said, pulling on her drink again. I freshened it up with vodka and she smiled. "I'm already drunk Thomas. And, I don't need to be drunk for later anyway." she teased.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"I got us a hotel room a little ways away at that Marriott. Just another surprise for you. I checked in earlier...keys are in my bag."

I opened the tiny black clutch she'd brought along, found two plastic card keys in a small envelope. I shook my head, smiling.

"Is he coming with us?" I asked.

She nodded, watching me.

"Am I coming with you?" I asked.

Same response.

"He knows?"

She leaned in again. "A little bit ago, when he was trying to get up in my dress, I asked if he was gonna be OK fucking me while my husband watched." She laughed. "After his jaw hit the floor, he looked over at you and then shrugged his shoulders. So I guess. We'll see."

The music changed, and she said "Ohhh...LOVE this song...last dance!" She finished her drink in a gulp again and went to find him. I watched, noticed a tremor in my hand as I sipped my drink, felt my heart in my chest. Anticipation.

As the song wound down and bled in to another, I saw them split, then watched curiously as Ginger made her way to the school girl. She took her arm at the elbow and leaned in to her ear. They both looked my way. School girl grabbed her friend and they all three headed toward me. Uh oh.

"Hey sexy!" school girl said as they pulled up to the table. Ginger didn't even blink, just grabbed her clutch in one hand and my arm in the other, tugging me from my seat.

Both girls practically squealed "Thanks you guys!" as we walked away.

Ginger turned to my ear and told me she'd given them the table, not wanting to let the club have the bottle back only half-gone. 

"I figured she'd given you a nice little thrill..it was the least we could do." she said.

The black guy walked up next to us, a little tentatively. She grabbed his arm, letting go of mine. Hmmm.

We walked outside. The air was cool, felt great after the heat of the crowded club. Ginger's nipples stiffened and pressed against the thin black fabric of her dress.

"This is Chris baby..." she said. "Chris, that's Thomas."

We nodded awkwardly at each other. 

"Go on and get the car baby." she said. 

I was a little shocked, but I stepped off the curb toward the lot as she stayed behind with him. I could see them on the curb through the windshield as I started the car. Ginger shivered, chilly as her sweat dried in the cool night air. She pressed against Chris, and he wrapped a big arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to warm her. It was a bit far, but I thought that she was staring directly at me as she nestled against his body.

Pulling to the curb, I didn't know quite what to do. I went with my default, popped the locks and stepped out, walking around to open the door for Ginger. As I stepped in front of the car, however, she opened the back door, ducked inside, and pulled Chris in behind her. This time it wasn't my imagination, her eyes were locked on mine through the windshield glass as she pulled him close to her.

I got awkwardly back in the car. I knew where the hotel was, so I drove off wordlessly. I glanced in the rear view mirror, saw Ginger eying me. After catching my eye, she leaned to Chris and began kissing him. It was an open-mouthed kiss, I could see her pushing her tongue in to his mouth. I stifled a moan in my throat, tried to watch the road, eyes constantly stealing back to the mirror. After a bit, she pulled away. I heard the faint sound of a zipper as she stared at me in the mirror again, then thought I noticed a small smile at the corner of her mouth before her head disappeared from view.

She began sucking his cock, the sounds were obvious. She did it noisily, I suppose for my benefit. He was leaned back, eyes shut. He muttered "Damn girl..."

I heard her slurping wetly, could hear the sound of her hand working her spit on him as it ran up over his head, then down the length of his shaft. He began to moan steadily and I wondered if she'd bring him off right in the car. Instead she stopped him abruptly as she'd done so many times to me. 

I glanced back, her face was in the mirror again, watching me. There was some motion, and I guessed she continued to stroke his shaft lightly. I stopped at a stoplight, then felt her lips behind my ear.

"Kiss me, Thomas."

I turned as much as I could. She leaned over, pushed her tongue in to my mouth, kissed me until someone beeped at us from behind.

I was in a daze, drove hurriedly toward the hotel as sex sounds continued to come from the back seat. She'd dropped from sight in the rear view. He was leaning toward her side, and he was rocking a bit. From the sounds, he was finger-fucking her. She propped one high heel on the seat back, confirming my suspicions. She was drenched from the sound of it, his fingers sloshed in her juices. She cried out as she came.

I pulled in to the hotel, bouncing the right rear tire over the curb and drawing a surprised laugh from the back seat. 

I headed for the parking lot but Ginger sat up, put a hand on my shoulder and said "Drop us in the front baby."

I pulled around to the front, fighting with the mix of emotions I was feeling. I didn't much like playing chauffeur, yet my cock strained against my jeans. 

Chris stepped out. Ginger leaned over the seat. "Hey..." she said.

My eyes found hers in the mirror.

"Come straight up...k?"

I nodded. Part of me felt like driving home, not sure I wanted to see anymore.

She squeezed my shoulder. "You're gonna love this Thomas...trust me. Come straight up." She kissed my neck and then climbed out.

I parked, shut the car off. I was shaking slightly. Stepping out of the car, I realized I didn't know what room she was in, didn't have a card key. Did she forget? Or was this some sort of controlling trick? My eye caught a flash of white in the back seat. The small white envelope from her purse with the room number, one plastic card sticking out the end. I opened the door, leaned in, and smelled her scent there. She'd put it next to a small wet spot left as he'd finger fucked her. Nice touch.

It felt as if I was walking through molasses as I headed for the room. It seemed everyone was looking at me as I walked through the lobby to the elevators. A couple stepped off, laughing, as I stepped on the elevator, and it seemed they knew what was going on and were laughing at me. I stepped slowly down the corridor, paused at the door, listened, but no sound emerged. I put the key in the slot, hesitated, knocked.

After a few seconds, I heard Ginger say "C'mon in Thomas." And I opened the door.

Typical room set up. There were 2 Queen beds. They stood at the foot of the far bed, kissing hungrily. His large black hands were all over her. Her pale hands, accented with her french tips, ran over his muscular back and arms. She pulled away from the kiss, turned her head to look at me as he continued kissing her face and neck. She let her head slide back, exposing her neck to him, eyes on me the entire time. 

"Have a seat, Thomas." she directed.

Beyond them was a chair and ottoman plus a desk with another chair, but it was a tight squeeze past them. I sat on the other bed.

"Huh-uh...over there." as she tipped her head toward the chair.

I moved past them, and she let a hand brush my side affectionately as I did, then resumed kissing him.

He untied the strap behind her neck and pushed the dress down, exposing her breasts. She looked at me again as his mouth engulfed one of her swollen nipples. I was rubbing my cock absently through my jeans. 

Pulling his head up, she slid down and sat on the bed, began working his pants open again. She glanced over at me, grabbed at the hotel comforter with her free hand. I stood, pulled back the comforter to expose the crisp white sheets. We'd each seen enough porn on top of hotel comforters, and not knowing how often they were washed, we both preferred to leave them on the floor. She lifted her ass slightly as I pulled it off the far side of the bed for her.

I sat back down. He pulled his shirt off. Definitely a better body than me, no question there.

She released his cock, taking it easily in to her mouth. He stepped awkwardly out of his pants, shorts, and shoes, resting a hand on her shoulder. She began to suck on him in more earnest, but it became clear he had other intentions.

He pushed her back on the bed. She bounced on to her back, a surprised giggle escaping. He pushed her dress gruffly up so that the whole thing was bunched around her waist. He tugged at her panties, throwing them toward me after working them over her shoes. I noticed the wet spot on them as they landed in a heap near my foot. He knee-walked between her legs. At my viewing angle, with the back light of a bedside lamp, I got my first unencumbered look at his cock.

It was as dark as the rest of his skin, slightly lighter at the head. Not enormous, but certainly bigger than mine in both length and girth. What really caught my attention was the slight upward curve at the tip. Surely Ginger knew what that curve meant for her. She moaned in anticipation.

He settled himself between her legs and pushed his hips forward. This was another moment I'd imagined hundreds of times...seeing another man's cock penetrate my wife for the first time. This was going pretty much how I'd always imagined. 

He paused. Ginger, staring between her legs, beckoned for me with her hand. I stood, stepped to the bed. She took my hand, looked at me, then back at him as he pushed it all the way inside her. My moan was drowned completely by her lustful cry. He began pumping in and out of her. She was soaked, and his shaft shined with her juices. After his third thrust, Ginger the curved tip came fully in to play. She gripped my hand tighter, and I felt her nails dig in to my flesh.

She looked up at me as he sank in for another thrust. "Baby....." she whispered. Then her eyes rolled shut. 

Chris increased the pace. His balls slapped her bare ass. I saw something splash on to his groin, leaned closer. As he drew back, another small burst of Ginger's juices splashed against his skin. He thrust forward again. As he found bottom, her hips thrust upward, following his upstroke. Her hand flew from mine and gripped the bed, her other hand pushed against his stomach. His cock slid from her and she screamed as her juices erupted, squirting out of her, first splashing on to him, then the bed.  

The now-familiar mix of emotions washed over me. I'd never made Ginger squirt while fucking her. As far as I knew, no one had. This guy had made it happen in under 45 seconds.

Her eyes fluttered open and found mine, then closed involuntarily as he re-entered her. She was still convulsing slightly, still wrapped in her orgasm. He didn't seem to care, picking up where he'd left off, fucking her straight through it. I took her hand again, felt the pleasant bite of her nails as his thrusts intensified. I stood there watching and listening as my wife enjoyed what appeared to be the fucking of her life.




Ginger and Chris Ch. 01



The details of her surprise intensified the experience. Her platinum hair was splayed around her head wildly. His dark hands pawed at her pale breasts, pinched her stiff pink nipples. After pounding her relentlessly from his knees for a good minute or so, he settled on to her, and I watched as his black skin engulfed her pallid body. With each upstroke, I could see his thick, dark cock splitting her soft pink lips in two. 

The slower pace and his changed angle of entry allowed her to catch her breath a bit. She watched me watching them for a bit, squeezing my hand, whispering filthiness to him for my benefit.

"Mmm...fuck me....yes...fuck my little white pussy....oh god...GOD I love your big black cock in me..."

She pulled him down to her with her free hand, and they made out while he pushed in and out of her. After a bit, she pushed him back. He raised up on straightened arms, continued to fuck her. She squeezed my hand, tugged on it, drawing me to her. I sat on the bed, leaned in, and kissed her deeply.

I will say now that the hottest, most incredible turn-on I have experienced, ever, is kissing my wife while another man fucks her. I have always loved kissing while having sex, but this takes it to an entirely new level. She moaned breathlessly as we kissed, none of it under my control, all at the whim of his thrusts. She'd push her tongue in to my mouth, our lips locked, and then gasp as his dick found a special spot inside her. Amazing.

Whether he was incensed at the attention she paid me, or his heart rate had recovered enough for another sprint, he began thrusting harder after we'd kissed a while. I pulled back, still sitting there, pushed a few sweat-dampened wisps of hair from her face. He pulled her legs over his shoulders, held her ankles. After a few thrusts, she looked at me, then at him....

"Fuck...fuck....coming again...gonna cum again..." she panted. And then she did, a hard convulsion, hips thrusting up toward him, coupled with a throaty half-scream whose pitch varied as her body shook. I hadn't heard it from her before. 

He pushed her legs toward me, putting her on her side, continued a few strokes that way as she came down again. When she stopped shaking, he paused, maneuvered her on to her stomach, pressed between her legs, and pushed in to her from behind.

"Oh god...oh god...oh god..." she murmured as he navigated through it, anticipating what was next. 

I took her hand again as he began fucking her from behind. She buried her face in the pillow. I watched her free hand scrabble for purchase, clawing haplessly at the tight fitted sheet, finally finding a free pillow and bunching it in her hand. 

He grabbed her shoulders with his hands, black on white skin, so hot, pulling her face from the pillows, forcing her back as he thrust forward. She cried out with each thrust. I tried holding on to her hand, but she was beyond that, shaking free from me, waving me away so she could find the edge of the bed to grip. 

Unsure what to do, I retreated to the chair and watched them fuck. She seemed to have completely forgotten about me now. He went at her for a good while. It seemed longer than it was, sitting there watching makes it like that. All told, he fucked her for about 30 minutes. I was impressed with his stamina. Ginger did some things that would have made me cum instantly as they went at it, but he'd just slow his pace, get control of himself, then start pounding her again. 

One of her shoes came off her foot along the way, shaken loose by his thrusts, and swung wildly from the straps. I watched her flail at it with one hand, Chris refusing to break his pace. I stood, unstrapped it and let it fall to the floor, then walked around and untied the other one. She didn't even acknowledge that I'd done it, she was lost in the moment. I found that to be really hot for some reason that I can't explain.

A little later, her ass in the air, face in the pillows,him propped straight-armed over her again, cock pistoning in and out of her, I'd thought she was screaming in pain, thought maybe he was hurting her. I stood, began approaching the bed, but she'd turned her face from the pillows then, and I heard the words accompanying the screams.

"fuck yes..." over and over again in a string..more like "fuckyesfuckyesfuckyesfuckyes..."

I sat back down.

His climax was somewhat anti-climactic, at least for me. Ginger had been reduced to a quivering mass beneath him. His strokes slowed, increased in length so that his entire cock would appear, then sink back in to her. At the bottom of one of these strokes he groaned loudly, stayed inside her, and pumped in his thick seed.

She responded..."ahhh...ahhhh...ahhhhh...".

From where I sat I had a good angle as he withdrew, watched his slick shaft slide out of her. The head brushed against the inside of her thigh, leaving a smeared drop of thick cream on her. He'd pumped his load deep however, so that while Ginger's slit glistened, none of his cum was yet evident.

He collapsed next to her. She turned her head toward the side I was sitting on, breathing deeply. Her eyes opened sleepily. She smiled at me, lifted a hand, beckoned for me. I sat next to her on the bed, wondering if she'd ask me to lick her while he was still here, not sure what was in store.

"Get me a bottle of water, baby?" she asked.

Not what I was expecting. I mean, sure, I could understand that she'd worked up a thirst, but really? I squashed my disappointment, nodded and adjusted my hard-on as I headed out of the room.

There was a vending machine on the floor, but I had no singles on me. In the hotel lobby, there were no water bottles in the little bodega next to the desk and the clerk claimed to have no singles to spare. Great. My only solace as I headed outside was that Chris would probably be gone by the time I got back.

I walked to a convenience store a couple of blocks down, grabbed a 6-pack of waters from the cooler, figuring I'd try to make her thirsty again while working up my own thirst, and headed back. My excitement built as I walked down the corridor to the room. I didn't bother to knock this time, assuming he'd be gone.

I walked in to find him sprawled back on the pillows, hands behind his head. Ginger was next to him, legs alongside his, bent at her waist so her torso and one arm lay across his stomach. His cock was in her mouth. She pulled slowly on it, left hand following her lips up the shaft lazily. It looked to be about 2/3 hard again. Her eyes were open, watching me. She continued on it a few more strokes, then seemed to reluctantly let it slide from her mouth.

She nodded toward the water in my hand. I put it on the dresser, pulled a bottle free, cracked the top off it, placed it in the hand that had just been wrapped around his cock.

"Thank you, baby." she said, then handed the water up to him. She held out her hand for another. This was starting to get to me.

I cracked open another and handed it to her, simultaneously glad and pissed off that I'd bought the 6-pack. 

"That took you a while." she commented.

I didn't answer, and suppose my lousy poker face betrayed me again.

She watched me, took a long pull on the water, let out a little "ahhhh...", then another long pull, smacking her lips afterward.

Despite my anger, disappointment, frustration, whatever it was, I felt my cock swelling. His cock, now semi-flacid, was only inches from her face.

She saw me looking at his cock, a devilish glint stole through her eyes, and she suddenly wrapped her lips around the head. He jumped, cried out, her lips cold from the water she'd just drank. She laughed, patted his thigh.

"Be right back, Chris...don't move..." she said to him, then stood.

Her dress, still hanging loosely around her waist, fell to her ankles and she stepped out of it.

"C'mere." she said to me as she walked past and stepped in to the bathroom. I joined her.

"You're mad. What's up?" she asked. 

I looked at the floor. "I'm not mad..." I started.

"This isn't a time for lies, Thomas. You are mad, so tell me what's going on. Please?"

I couldn't look at her.

"Didn't you like it?" she asked.

I took a deep breath. "I did, Ginger...really, I did. I just thought...I thought he'd be gone."

"Mmmmmm..." she said. "Will you look at me, Thomas?" 

I did.

"I'm not trying to hurt you or make you feel bad, OK? Do you trust me on that?"

I nodded.

"But I want him again. He was....what he just did to me..."

She was at a loss for words. I couldn't help but smile.

She smiled shyly back, her turn to look down. "What?" she asked.

"I uhhh, I kind of get it." I said. "I just expected he'd be gone and I'd get you now." 

She looked at me, stepped to me. I kissed her, pushed her back against the wall. 

"It's OK then?" she asked. 

I nodded.

"You want a little taste to hold you?"

I moaned, started to sink to my knees, but she stopped me.

"Huh uh...later for that." 

She put her hand on her stomach, used her free hand to press mine over it, then slid it down between her legs. I pressed her middle finger in to her slit. It was slippery, and my cock bounced again in my pants.

Pulling it out, she locked her eyes on mine and held her finger up. It glistened with a viscous off-white cream. She let it glide over her lips, coating them. I leaned in, ran my tongue over them, then pushed it in to her mouth to share it. She shivered.

"I'm gonna get back in there...come on and watch again, k?"

I felt a little awkward stepping back in to the room, but neither of them was paying me any attention. Ginger was already back on the bed, on her knees and bent at the waist, his thickening cock back between her lips. He was watching her, playing with her white-blonde hair as he did. Her ass was in the air toward me and I could see her slit glistening, a hint of white at the top. I leaned back against the wall to watch.

Once she'd worked him fully hard, she straightened up and swung a leg over him, turning herself to face me. She saw me watching, smiled at me.

"Hey baby...." she said.

I nodded a hello. She beckoned me with her head, her best come-hither move. I walked to the bed and she pulled me in to a deep tongue kiss. One hand was wrapped around his cock, and she guided it to her slit as we kissed. Her breath caught mid-kiss as she slid down on to him, and she breathed out a moan in to my mouth as she sank all the way down. She began to ride him, still kissing me. It felt amazing. I let my hand touch her stomach, slide down, and pressed a finger against her clit. She pulled back from me, eying me.

"Oh yesssss..fuck yes Thomas...do that...yessss baby." 

She steadied herself with a hand on my shoulder, watched me as I looked down, trying to catch a glimpse of his cock pushing inside her. The angle was wrong, but the contrast of her white thighs across his dark skin again struck me as erotic and pushed my excitement higher.

"You like that?" she asked. I nodded. "You do...of course you do...you like watching me fuck...hear that Chris? He likes how you fuck me...."

Chris responded with a grunt, then began to thrust his hips upward as Ginger sank down on him. Ginger responded, a guttural moan as her head lolled back. I picked up the pace on her clit, leaned in to kiss her neck, tasting dried sweat on her skin.

"Mmmmm...you like that...you like kissing on me while I'm getting fucked..." It wasn't a question, but a statement. I moaned against her skin. She rewarded me with another deep tongue kiss.

I felt her tensing, his thrusts combined with pressure on her clit. We both picked up the pace on her, and she exploded in orgasm on his cock, shuddering and rocking on him. 

Chris took advantage to seize control, deftly pulling his legs up between hers, pushing her down on her stomach, then sliding between her legs. His cock again pushed in to her from behind before she could recover. I was left standing too close to the bed, so retreated to the chair to watch again.

This time it didn't last as long, thankfully, although much of the rest matched their earlier fuck. Chris pounded in to her. Ginger's fingers scrabbled for purchase on the bed, finally gripping the edge at the foot of it. She screamed in to the mattress. He came in her again, a shuddering deep thrust, keeping himself buried in her until he was drained. 

I wondered briefly what was next, anxious to be alone with my freshly-fucked wife. I didn't have to wonder long. Chris withdrew, stood and began to gather his clothes. He dressed silently as I looked at Ginger, breathing raspily, trying to catch her breath as she sprawled on the bed. She hadn't looked up yet.

Dressed now, Chris touched her bare back, said "I'll see you Ginger..." then headed for the door. He turned back toward me as he opened the door, said "Hey...nice to meet you guys tonight." and then left. Understatement of the year, I thought. 

I look back at that particular moment, given what would happen over the weeks to come, and recall something tugging at my subconscious . "I'll see you Ginger..." Maybe it's just selective memory though, because at the time the only thing that mattered was being alone, finally, with my freshly-fucked wife.

I stood and stepped to the bed. Her head was turned to one side, flat on the bed. She opened one eye, a small smile spread across her mouth.

"Why don't you get undressed, Thomas?"

I did, self-conscious as my cock sprang in to the air, the difference in size obvious to me.

"Mmmmm..." she said. Then, "Is this what you want, Thomas? This how you want me?"

"You know it is." I replied, stroking her back softly. My fingers trembled.

"It is? Used? Fresh-fucked?"

She said that last bit slowly, intentionally. I could only moan and nod in reply.

Her legs parted slightly. "You want to clean me up, baby?" 

"God yes, Ginger."

"Mmmmm...go on then...I'm just gonna lay here and recover for a bit..."

I slid down next to her. She smelled like a slut, and I breathed her in deeply. 

"Did he fuck you good, baby?" I ventured as I began kissing her soft shoulders, working my way slowly down her back.

"Ohhhhh, he fucked me SO good, Thomas. So so good."

I made my way to the small of her back, and she sighed softly as I kissed and licked at her skin.

"You liked watching him fuck me, Thomas?"

I paused, kissed her softly before answering. "It was hard, Gin. Hard to watch."

"But you liked it, didn't you? I saw you watching..."

"I did baby...I liked seeing him make you feel good..."

"Mmmm...and he did Thomas...he made me feel so good...so fucking good..."

I'd made my way over her ass, and despite the awkward angle had my tongue ready to light on her slit as she said that last sentence. I pushed it in deeply as she finished saying "good", pleased to hear her gasp as my tongue snaked in to her.

His cum must have been deep, and her position on her stomach had not let much of it come forward. My tongue felt like I'd submerged it in a pool, she was such a wet, sloppy mess inside. I made short rapid thrusts with it, lapping at it, tasting their combined juices. It was loud, like a dog lapping at water. She began to moan.

"Oh....ohhhhhh fuck Thomas....yes...clean me up...clean up my dirty pussy..."

She squirmed beneath me, pushing her ass toward my face. I continued to lap at it.

"Fuck fuck fuck...I gotta watch it baby...help me up..."

Reluctantly I got to my knees, turned her on to her side, then pulled her to kneel with me. She looked at me, kissed my wet lips, licked some of it from my chin, then pulled back, shaking her head slowly.

"You dirty fuck...you are suck a dirty fuck Thomas...clean me up..." as she pushed down on my shoulders.

I slid flat on my back and she mounted my face. She leaned forward, gripping the headboard for balance. Her thighs quivered beside my head, still shaky from the fucking Chris had given her. I looked up and saw her staring down at me. Her stomach relaxed, she'd been holding herself closed. Two fat drops of the slutty mixture inside her splashed on to my face. 

She groaned, shifted her slit over my mouth. I opened it, lifted my head as a small thick stream began to empty in to it. There was a lot. I pressed my mouth to her, but she pulled back, wanting to watch it flow from her in to my mouth. His first load must have broken down and mixed with her own juices, then been topped with his second. It was both watery and thick in my mouth. My cock was throbbing. Ginger talked like a filthy whore above me as she watched. She lowered her slit as the flow ebbed to drips, grinding herself on to my face. She came quickly, I felt another small trickle of her juices and drank them down as she relaxed against the headboard, breathing hard.

She tried lifting one leg over me, but couldn't find the strength...her leg muscles were really shot. Giving up, she instead slid herself down on top of me, stopping as my cock pressed between her legs. She kissed me, licking my lips, pushing her tongue in to my mouth, moaning softly. 

I pushed from one side, rolling so that she was beneath me. She giggled softly, holding on to my back as she looked in to my eyes.

"You gonna fuck me now, Thomas?"

I could only manage a low growl as I gripped my shaft and guided it to her slit. It slid in easily, barely any friction at all. I wondered if she even felt it, but she sighed, pressed her hands on to my back.

"Mmmmmm...you fill me up so nice Thomas..." she sighed.

I fight a terrible battle with myself, even then wanting to believe her but wondering in my mind whether she was just saying it to be nice. I was determined to get her off again, so put the thought out of my mind, however.

I lifted my right leg and pulled her left leg inside of it, then did the same on the other side, so that her legs were together beneath me and I could press them tighter with mine. Her eyes shined at me, I'd done this a few times before and she knew what was next. I shifted myself slightly higher, so that my cock pressed over her clit with each stroke. 

"Oh....oh Thomas...that's so good...yes baby...right on my clit...yesssssss..."

I pressed her legs tight, creating friction where there had been none, and picked up my pace. The sounds of her wetness, her sloppiness, were clear as I began to fuck her in earnest. 

She looked at me, started to talk, I thought to taunt me playfully as she'd done in the past, but it instead took a new turn that, at the time, excited me.

"Just how you like it, isn't baby? Mmmm hmmm...I know...I know you love it...used up and sloppy...you do love it, don't you? Love it when I fuck other guys...don't you Thomas?"

I nodded struggling to control myself.

"Say it baby...tell me you want me to fuck them."

I looked at her. "I do Gin...I love when you do it."

"I feel like such a slut when I do it Thomas...I feel so bad...but I love it...oh god...like that baby...I love doing it..."

I just nodded at her, concentrating on not cumming too soon. 

"You want me to stop, Thomas? Do you want me to stop fucking other guys?" she panted breathlessly, fighting back her own orgasm as I continued to press against her clit.

I shook my head, losing control. "No baby..no.." was all I could manage.

What she said next got a little lost in the moment, but I thought a lot about it over the next couple of weeks.

She was nodding her head..."K....'cause I don't think I can baby...can't stop fucking them...can't stop...cumming...cumming baby...Thomassssssss...fill me up again baby...fill me up...."

I groaned, thrust hard and emptied what felt like a gallon inside her. Hours of watching her dancing, making out, and fucking all pent up inside me, now emptying in to her.

I sprawled on top of her, putting as much weight on my forearms as I could, I always feel like I'm crushing her. Exhaustion was taking a toll, my arms were shaking, and I tried to roll off of her. She held me tight though.




Ginger and Chris Ch. 02



The past couple of weeks had been a whirlwind, and the flurry events spun through my mind. Taking Ginger to that dance club, watching her pick up Chris, taking them to the hotel. More watching as he took her in front of me. Twice. Then the fight, and making up. The promise of a surprise for me in return for agreeing to let her be with Chris again.

Now, coming home to find two sets of women's clothing scattered from the front door to the top of the stairs. The bra, not in my wife's size, that I now held in my trembling hand. I brought it to my nose again, trying to decide if I recognized my wife's best friend's scent on it. My heart felt like a lump in my throat as I approached our bedroom door.

It stood open about 1/2 way, and soft, flickering light spilled from on to the hall carpet. Something dark dangled from the knob. A pair of panties, I saw, as I drew near. I became aware of a soft, panting moan, again, not Ginger. My heart hammered. As the door was open, I didn't knock, but instead pushed it open slowly.

There were a dozen or so candles lit, placed around the room to lend an eery, fluctuating light. Sarah lay back against my pillows, eyes closed, lips parted slightly, the source of the moan I'd heard as she panted for breath. Her arm snaked down between her legs, a tangle of my wife's still platinum blonde hair in her grasp. Ginger's head suddenly thrashed back and forth quickly, sending Sarah careening over the edge. Sarah's blood red nails contrasted Ginger's blonde hair as Sarah gripped her head for purchase, cumming sharply against Ginger's face.

I stood dumb-founded. This was really, really, really nice, I had to admit. Ginger was flat on her stomach, still in her panties but nothing else, her legs bent at the knees, feet in the air, ankles crossed, waving back and forth lazily as she continued at a softer pace on her former lover and current best friend.

Sarah's eyes drifted open, saw me, and she gasped, reflexively reached for covers but couldn't pull them to her as Ginger was laying on them. Then she started to giggle. She pushed at Ginger's head. Ginger pretended not to notice, but I could tell she was play-acting.

"Ginger...GINGER!...Tommy's home..." Sarah's giggles were intensifying. She was drunk, I thought.

Ginger finally stopped, rolled over to her side, looking back at me. "Surprise, baby." she said through a smile.

"Surprise!" Sarah said, bit too loudly...bringing on another giggle fit. 

I just stood there, Sarah's bra and panties dangling from my finger. 

Ginger continued. "Don't mind her...she's a little nervous." Sarah tried to stop giggling, taking deep breaths. I noticed Ginger kept one hand on her mound and was stroking her slit with her thumb.

"And a little drunk?" I said, not quite knowing what to say or do.

Ginger laughed. "I'M a LITLE drunk, Thomas. Sarah's a LOT drunk." Sarah giggled again, so Ginger pushed her thumb inside her, causing her to suck air in between her teeth, halting the giggles.

"Oh fuck, Ginger." Sarah said.

Ginger continued moving her thumb in and out while looking at me. Sarah was moaning softly, but also looking at me.

"C'mon over here, baby." Ginger said.

I walked to the bed side, stood there. Ginger slid over, withdrawing her thumb, and began to work at my belt and pants. Sarah got to her knees, knee-walked to me, and began unbuttoning my shirt. The girls were well coordinated in their effort, and something occurred to me.

"You two seem to have done this before." I said.

Ginger looked up at me as she pushed my pants down over my hips, taking my boxers with them.

"Maybe once or twice." she said, a playful gleam in her eye.

Sarah broke in to giggles again. "Yea...once or twice...or..." she said through her laughter. 

Ginger smacked her on the ass. 

"Oooh, again..." Sarah cooed, still giggling.

They were having a fine time, with me standing there afraid to move for fear of doing the wrong thing.

My shirt undone and thrown to the floor, pants pooled around my ankles, Ginger began sucking my cock. Sarah slid down next to her. I watched mesmerized as they worked on me, one running a tongue along my shaft, fondling my balls while the other sucked on the head. They switched off easily, clearly a practiced art for them. Now and then they'd kiss deeply between changes. I was close, and Ginger sensed it. She got to her knees, face to face with me, and pinched my shaft near the head. Sarah slowed down, softly licking the shaft below Ginger's grip.

"Huh uh Thomas...you have work to do."

I didn't know what to say. I'd never been in a threesome. Ginger and I had talked about it while dating, particularly when she began experimenting with girls, but it had never happened. And I'd always read or heard that it was best to have a complete stranger if you brought a third person in. Sarah didn't qualify. Still, I couldn't see harm in me watching the two of them. But that wasn't what Ginger had in mind.

She drew closer, kissed me softly. I could smell Sarah on her lips. She smiled knowingly. 

"Sarah wants you to fuck her, baby."

I stared back at her. "Are you sure that's..." I started, but she hushed me with a finger on my lips.

"I want you to fuck her, Thomas. I want to watch it, like you watch me."

I glanced down at Sarah as Ginger revealed our secret. Ginger smiled.

"She knows what we've been doing, don't worry. I sort of had to tell her to make this happen."

From below us I heard Sarah..."You sure are a good husband, Tommy...", followed by more giggles.

Ginger loosened her fingers on me. Sarah set back to work, sucking me in to her mouth. It felt amazing. 

Ginger took my hand, pulled me on to the bed. I kicked awkwardly at my pants until they were off, self consciously pulled off my dark socks. 

Sarah slid back across the sheets, shifting to her back. Ginger moved next to her, sitting, stroking Sarah's stomach as her other hand pulled me toward them. 

I looked Sarah over. She is dark to Ginger's light. Black hair, so black I suppose it gets help from a bottle, but complimentary to her skin tone, also a bit darker, maybe some Mediterranean in her family. She wears her hair long too, about a third of the way down her back. It now spilled across Ginger's pillows. Pert breasts, a b-cup according to the bra on the stair railing. Full pink nipples, larger than Ginger's  A bit chubbier than Ginger, particularly after Ginger's hard work in the gym, but nowhere near fat. Just right, really, at least for my tastes. Her mound was shaven clean, revealing a tight slit, no pink showing. My eyes lingered there, I suspect I must have licked my lips. I wanted to taste her.

Ginger slid next to me, whispering.

"Huh uh...that's the one rule baby...you save that for me..."

I wasn't sure if she meant that she only wanted me licking her, or if she wanted to be the only one to lick Sarah, but the point was made either way. I tried not to be disappointed, considering the circumstances.

I moved tentatively toward Sarah. She parted her legs and I slid up between them. My cock pulsed against her thigh. I looked at Sarah, saw her steal a hesitant glance toward Ginger. Neither of us was sure this was OK. 

Ginger was staring at me though, didn't notice Sarah's glance.

"Go on baby...do it...do it..." Ginger whispered.

I gripped my shaft, slid the head in to Sarah's slit, felt her juices. Finding the right spot, I pushed forward. Sarah gasped, and I paused. Her ankle curled around my hip, tugging at me, so I pressed forward again, watching her lips as a low moan escaped. She felt very tight wrapped around me.

Ginger leaned back against my pillows and the head board. "Oh damn...that is hot..." she whispered. Her hand slid down between her legs, rubbing herself outside her panties.

I began to slide in and out of Sarah slowly. Her head did a slow motion thrash from side to side as I did. Her eyes squeezed shut, a raspy hiss as I withdrew, then the low moan as I sank back in. I fought to control myself. She was very tight.

Ginger moved close to Sarah, leaned over her, kissed her mouth. Sarah moaned through it.

"Is he bigger, Sar? Is he bigger than Jeff?" Ginger asked.

Sarah nodded, managed an "uh huh..." between hisses and moans.

Ginger looked up at me, eyes sparkling, knowing she'd scored some ego-feeding points with me. I appreciated it, but was more focused on not erupting inside Sarah in under a minute.

"Fuck her harder, Thomas." Ginger suddenly commanded. "She likes it hard."

Well shit. Much harder and this would all be over. Instead I pulled out, a frustrated sigh coming from Sarah in response. I took her hip in my hand and pulled her to her side, then pushed her over on to her stomach, pushing her left leg up to expose her slit again. Positioning myself, I sank inside her to the hilt, drawing a surprised cry, muffled by the pillows. The brief break in rhythm had helped stem the tide in me, and I began to increase the pace of my thrusts. 

I watched as Sarah's hands began to scrabble for something to grab on to. She finally found the edge of the bed with her right hand. Ginger took her left hand and let her squeeze. I began to pound her, pulling my hips back until the tip of my cock emerged, then letting gravity plunge me back in. I felt her cumming beneath me, a shuddering orgasm as she began to push her ass in the air toward me.

Trying to time it right, I slipped my hands beneath her stomach as it came off the bed, pulling her up so that her knees were beneath her. She cried out in surprise, her orgasm still coursing through her. I began fucking her again, now thrusting straight in to her, pulling her hips back as I did. Recalling how Chris had fucked Ginger, I took advantage of Sarah's petite height and moved my hands to her shoulders. She tried to keep her face in the pillows but couldn't as I pulled her toward me, banging my cock deeply inside her. She screamed with each thrust. I looked at Ginger, her eyes were locked on Sarah's face while her free hand pushed an unseen number of fingers in to herself beneath her panties.

I slowed suddenly, quickly, the sight of Ginger bringing me again close to cumming, finally pulling out abruptly and gripping the head of my cock to stop the surge.

Sarah collapsed on to the bed as I tried to catch my breath. Ginger moved toward me, pulled my forearm, then coaxed me on to my back. My cock bobbed in the cool air. Ginger took it in to her mouth, moaning as she sucked her friend's juices from it. She moved up to me then, whispered to me.

"Here...a little taste, but that's all..." She kissed me, pushing her tongue in to my mouth, giving me some of Sarah's essence.

She looked at me, smiling. "I bet you thought I forgot this next part..." I wasn't sure what she meant, but was rewarded only seconds later. When we'd talked about threesomes, I let on that my fantasy with two girls involved one sitting on my face while the other rode my cock.

Ginger pulled her damp panties off, then tugged at Sarah.

"C'mon sweetie...he isn't done with you yet..." she told her.

Sarah got to her knees.

"Get up on him..." Ginger instructed as she slid her own leg over my head. My view blocked by Ginger, I felt Sarah straddle my hips, then sink her very slippery slit down on to me. Ginger lowered herself on to my face, moaning as I pushed my tongue inside her.

The two of them worked at me, Ginger directing traffic the whole time. I could hear her kiss Sarah, she must have been exaggerating the sounds so that I would know what they were doing. At first Sarah bounced up and down on me, but Ginger stopped her, got her sliding back and forth. I imagined Ginger's hands on Sarah's hips, helping her thrust, sliding my cock back and forth in her. She came noisily again, then Ginger left her to her own devices as she focused on her own pleasure. I tried teasing at her clit, but she'd have none of it, finally holding my head in place, pressing down on to my face as I sucked her clit between by teeth. She came hard.

The girls relaxed above me, Sarah slowly gliding up and down. I patted Ginger's thigh, ready to please myself now that they'd had their fun. Ginger slid off me, and Sarah followed. I asked Sarah to lay down on her back again, slid over her. Ginger watched, leaning back on the headboard again. Sarah opened her legs and I pushed inside her, then stopped and pushed up on my arms. Holding myself on one arm, I lifted a leg and pulled her leg inside of mine.

Ginger said "Oh sweetie...you are gonna like this..." to her as I did the same with the other side, so that her legs were together.

Sarah looked up at me questioningly, then her eyes widened as I began to thrust.

"Oh...oh fuck...fuck Ginger...he's right on my clit..."

I didn't last long this time, although I managed to bring Sarah off once more. As I got close, it occurred to me that I didn't know if I should pull out. I'd been snipped during my first marriage, but had no idea if Sarah knew. Ginger leaned over Sarah as I got close, looking at her but talking to me.

"That's it baby...fill her up...fill her up for me..."

I came noisily, felt the heavy spurts as I unleashed inside her. Finished, my weight on my arms, I considered whether to lay on Sarah or pull away. I decided on the latter, withdrew and slid past Ginger so that she was between the two of us. 

I was spent. Ginger seemed like she was just getting started. She turned to me, kissed me.

"Like your surprise?"

I nodded appreciatively.

"Mmmm...good baby. Now...let me see what's all this fuss about creampies..."

She moved to Sarah, who also lie there spent. Pushing her thighs apart, she lowered her head and began to lick noisily at her slit. I heard it, and had to see it. I had to stand and move to the other side of the bed for a good angle. Ginger opened Sarah's legs wide, tilted her head so I could see her play with my cum as it seeped out of her friend. I was too spent for my cock to respond, but the sight was amazing. Sarah lay there making those soft, panting moans I'd heard when I first came in to the room. Ginger kept at her for a while, playing for a bit, then licking and sucking my fluid from her. I watched her throat work as she swallowed what she could draw out, felt my cock stir, but only slightly.

Ginger finished by kissing her slit softly, then turned around and slid up next to her. I lay back down next to Ginger, letting the post sex fog settle over me.

Sarah sat up suddenly. "Shit...is that clock right? I have to get home..." She stood abruptly. Ginger rose up, grabbed her arm.

"Hey...no no no...you are not driving home. Stay here, you can have the guest room. No way you're driving like this sweetie."

"Jeff'll be pissed...it's too late for me to call." 

Ginger glanced back at me, moved closer to her friend and whispered. I could still hear most of it.

"Fuck Jeff after what he's putting you through...we'll deal with him tomorrow. You stay here, k?"

She gave in easily, apparently not all that anxious to get home. I felt bad for her.

Ginger pulled a big t-shirt from our dresser, handed it to Sarah, and guided her to the door. Sarah stopped, looked back at me.

"Uh..night Tommy...that was...uh...thanks..."

"Uhh...yea...of course...thanks..." I replied.

Ginger was smiling. "Oh yea, you two...that wasn't awkward at all..." she said. "We'll work on it tomorrow."

I settled back on the pillows, felt sleep tugging at me. I heard Ginger come back in to the room, expected her to slide in next to me, but opened my eyes when I felt her standing next to the bed over me. She looked down at me, a soft smile on her face.

"You like that, Thomas?"

I nodded, tried to pull her to the bed. She resisted slightly, wound up sitting on the edge next to me. She slid her hand over my torso.

"You're still a ways off from recovering, huh?"

"Mmm...sure...but there are ways to fill the time until then.", I said, sliding a hand on to her bare thigh

She stood up. "I uh...I'm gonna go over to Chris', I need it bad right now...waiting isn't gonna work." She stepped over to the dresser.

I was too dumbfounded to reply at first. I thought she must be kidding. It was just after midnight. I watched as she pulled on black stretch pants and a long sleeved t-shirt over her bare body.

Finally I managed to speak. "You're going now, seriously? At this hour?"

She turned back to me. "He's waiting on me." Her phone vibrated on the dresser as if on cue. She glanced at it, walked to the bed. She bent to kiss me. I reflexively kissed her back.

"I'll be back in a bit...then I'm all yours, baby..." and she turned, picked up her phone from the dresser, started tapping out a text message, and left.

I was stunned, still expected her to come walking back in laughing. Instead I heard the front door open and close, followed a minute later by her car starting up, driving away. Then silence.

"What the fuck just happened?", I thought to 

myself.

Sitting up in the bed, I suddenly felt stupid with no clothes on. I grabbed fresh boxers, sweats and a t-shirt, then headed downstairs to get a beer. The girls' clothing, strewn about haphazardly, seemed to taunt me as I passed.

Heading back upstairs with the beer, I paused at the top landing, looking down the hall. The guest room door stood open a crack. I walked past our bedroom toward it, not really sure what I had in mind. My heart felt like it was in my throat as I drew even with the doorway and pushed it open further. The room is set up with the bed against the back and side wall in the corner, beneath a window. You can see the whole bed from the hall, and I saw it fully now. Sara was sprawled on her stomach. She was covered from about the middle of her back down with a sheet and blanket, except for one leg that stuck out from beneath, bare and exposed. My gaze drifted from her bare sole up her leg. I could just see the curve of her ass as it disappeared beneath the covers. My cock stirred slightly. I leaned against the door frame, thoughts racing, all leading back to Ginger. Sara stirred, rousing me from my thoughts. I realized how it would look, how high the creepy-factor would be if she woke to find me staring in at her, beer in hand, so I retreated to my bedroom. 

Propped on the bed, sipping the beer, I thought more. I looked at the clock. I didn't know how far away Chris' place was. Was he fucking her yet? I cursed myself as my cock jumped at the thought. I sorted through my feelings as I sipped my beer. It came down to a sense of being set up, put simply. Yes, finding Sarah here, Ginger's approval at my being with her, had been as promised, a really nice surprise. But it seemed it had simply served another purpose for Ginger, clearing the way for her to be with Chris again. 

Could I be mad? It was what we'd agreed to. In fact, Sarah had been her idea, I hadn't even asked for anything in return for giving in on Chris. But still, the way it had gone down, the sense of being set up, that was what bugged me. And I was mad. 

Overarching it all, however, was the excitement that took control at the thought of what she was doing. The thought of her out fucking, no matter whom she was with, where she was, or when she was doing it, excited me. There was no sense denying it. The question in my mind, as I finished the beer and settled down on my pillows, was how I would react when she came home. I didn't want to fight, but I had to let her know how she'd made me feel when she ran out on me tonight. Clear in my conviction, I rubbed my eyes, let them close to rest them a bit, not intending to sleep.

I was startled awake by a noise, I thought from outside. The clock read 2:30. Damn, I had slept, and for a while. Ginger's side of the bed was empty. I strained to listen, wondering what woke me, when I heard the front door open and close. She was home. I tried to ready myself for our talk, steeling my nerves. I sat up at first, but thought better of it, didn't want to look as if I were ready for a fight, and settled down on my back instead.




Ginger and Chris Ch. 02



She pushed the door open, stood there for a moment. A few of the candles still guttered weakly, and I realized I'd been lucky that nothing had happened when I drifted off to sleep. I could see her hair mussed in the dim light they threw, and felt my cock stir. Wordlessly, she walked around the room, a short sharp exhale extinguishing the remaining light. I watched her, my cock growing as she did. The room collapsed in to darkness. I didn't see her, but heard soft whisps as she walked toward the bed. I realized she'd been stripping off the t-shirt and stretch pants as she approached when I caught her nude form in the soft light coming through a window.

Without a word, she placed one knee and hand on the bed next to me, then mounted my face. I wanted to object. I wanted to talk. I really did. Instead, I opened my mouth and began to drink greedily at the results of my slut-wife's most recent encounter.

She pushed my sweats and shorts down as she rode my face selfishly, getting herself off as I lapped at the mixture of her lover's cum and her juices. I could make out my name as she softly whispered to signal first one orgasm, then another. Satiated, she lifted herself from me, turned herself around, and settled on to my pulsating cock. She felt loose, sloppy, a stark contrast to Sarah. It turned me on more. She leaned down, kissed me hard as she rode me. I wanted to last, wanted to please her, but I came unexpectedly. She continued to pump her hips on me as I deflated inside her. No sighs of frustration, just an earnest effort to drain me completely. When there was nothing left she dismounted, lay down next to me, pressing against me. 

I realized my sweats and boxers were still around my ankles, and my t-shirt was still on. I saw a wet spot on it, a drop must have spilled from her on to it. I rose, kicked out of the pants and pulled off my shirt. I stroked her back, settled next to her.

"Hey..." I started.

"So tired baby...I'm going to sleep....love you...", and she turned her head away.

I sighed. I guess talking would wait. I didn't think I'd sleep, but I was wrong again. When I woke, the sun was up fully. I could hear sounds from the kitchen through our closed door. Ginger still slept on her stomach beside me. 

I got up, used the bathroom. On the way back I saw the black stretch pants she'd worn on the floor. They were inside out, the crotch stained a filmy white. I looked down at them, saw my cock rise in to view. Ginger stirred, and I looked at her, but her eyes were closed. My cock throbbed.

Before I could think better of it, I got on to the bed, pulled the covers off her, and pushed myself up between her legs. I pushed my cock inside her from behind. I didn't expect her to be wet, but she was. I started to fuck her angrily. She pushed her legs apart, lifted her hips, began to moan in to the mattress. I reached beneath her, wet two fingers in her juices as I slid out of her, then began making tight circles over her clit. I could hear her moaning in to the mattress as she built toward an orgasm, smiled to myself as I sent her crashing in to it before exploding in to my own. The whole thing lasted less than 5 minutes.

I pulled away from her, collapsed beside her, breathing hard. She turned her head toward me.

"Damn...what was that all about?" She had a small grin on her lips.

I wasn't sure. I guess I was trying to prove something, prove that I could fuck her as well as Chris could. I wasn't sure I'd succeeded.

I supposed now was as good a time as any, and opened my mouth to talk. Just then a sharp rap sounded on the door. We both jumped, then heard Sarah's voice.

"If you two can pull yourselves off each other, I made some breakfast." she said, then retreated down the steps.

Ginger smiled again, looked at me. "Make sure you thank her when we get down there...she just saved you from cleaning up the mess you made down there..." looking down her body before swinging herself out of bed.

I stayed put. She was acting like nothing was wrong. Was I reading in to things too much?

"C'mon..." she said as she pulled on sweats and another t-shirt. "She makes awesome breakfast."

I caught up to Ginger at the bottom of the stairs as she picked up the strewn about clothing and placed them on the couch. We heard Sarah talking as we approached the kitchen. As we entered, she turned her back, cell phone at her ear. She was fighting with her husband.

"I told you already, I'm at Ginger's. Yes, I've been here all night, the fuck do you think I was?" 

Ginger walked to her, placed a hand on her back. Sarah looked exasperated as she turned around. We could hear his voice, although not what he was saying to her. Ginger motioned for the phone. Sarah shook her head, but Ginger reached for it anyway.

Sarah said "Hold on...HOLD ON...Ginger wants to talk to you." I heard him say he didn't want to talk to Ginger as the phone changed hands. Ginger blew it off.

"Jeff, it's Ginger." She paused, I heard him say something to her. Her face reddened slightly. "Excuse me," her voice rising, "but you do NOT need to take that tone with me."

Silence for a bit, then his voice faintly.

"It's fine, I understand you being upset." Ginger continued. "I wanted to tell you I was sorry. She wanted to come home last night, but we'd both had too much to drink, and Thomas got in late from cards." Her voice took on a placating tone, she was good at this.

She listened a moment.

"Yes, you're right...of course we should have called. We were just having a bit of fun, and then, you know how it goes, the time goes by and suddenly its later than you think. She didn't want to wake you."

She listened again. Her eyes squinted.

"Oh...you got home late and were probably awake? Well, where you'd go, anyway?" 

Silence. She let it linger a minute, then said "Well, that's probably none of my business anyway. Like I said, I'm sorry, Jeff. Don't blame Sarah, it was my fault she didn't come home, k? You want to talk to her again?"

She didn't wait for an answer, just handed the phone back to Sarah. Sarah put it to her ear, said "Hello?" once, then put it down. Apparently he'd hung up.

"Thank you, but you shouldn't have done that." she said.

"Fuck him." Ginger said sharply. "What he's putting you through, I ought to go over and kick his ass. Now then, what's for breakfast?"

We sat down together. Ginger and I ate, Sarah pushed food around her plate. She looked at us both.

"Hey...did I hear someone come in the house late? Like after 2?" she asked.

I looked at Ginger, Ginger looked down at her plate. Hmmm.

"Oh...Ginger...you didn't go and see that guy after all, did you?" Sarah asked.

Hmmmmmm.

Ginger looked at her, face a little flushed. "Well now, I'm not sure that's any of your business, Ms. Sarah."

"Ms. Sarah", wow. She used that a lot. Most of the time affectionately, playfully. Not this time.

Sarah, much like Ginger, isn't one to back down from a fight, however. She stared back at Ginger for a few beats, then shifted her eyes to me.

"Well, shit Tommy...you should have come on down, we could have gone another round."

Holy crap, I couldn't believe she'd said that. My mind flashed briefly to the creepy ogling that I'd done. Ginger dropped her fork however, and the loud clang off the plate, then floor, brought me out of it. This was going to get ugly fast if I didn't so something.

Ginger's mouth opened, but before she could speak I said, "Well I did...are you kidding? You don't remember? You slept through the whole thing? Damn this Irish curse!"

Silence hung in the air for a moment, and then Ginger laughed. I laughed, probably a little to hard. Sarah's face softened and she joined in. It was awkward, a little forced, but it broke the momentum of the fight. After a minute we stopped. I got Ginger a new fork, but she'd clearly lost her appetite. I hadn't, and Ginger had been right, the woman makes a good breakfast. I sat back down and started eating again. They both looked at me, shared a glance at each other and shook their heads.

"What?" I said.

Sarah stood, said "Now I really do have to go."

Ginger stood too, they headed out of the kitchen. "I"ll get you a towel and washcloth." A minute later I heard water in the pipes, then Ginger came back down. A good time to talk, I thought. Instead she poked her head in to the kitchen.

"Hey...I'm gonna go home with her. I don't want Jeff doing anything crazy. I'll get her changed and then we're gonna go shopping, get her mind off that asshole."

"That bad?" I asked.

"He's fucking some girl from work. He was out fucking her last night." She said this with no sense of irony at all. "It's so damn obvious it's sad, and he thinks she doesn't know. Then he has the nerve to give her shit for staying out. Asshole." 

She was pissed. I decided I could put off our conversation again. Master procrastinator, that's me. I had 100 questions about Sarah, but figured that could wait too. Ginger headed up and took a shower. 

They both came down, Sarah in borrowed sweats, Ginger looking great in a light, button down knit sweater, tight across her chest, tight dark jeans, and high-heeled black boots that came up just below her knees.

She bounced over to me, in a better mood obviously, gave me a kiss goodbye as Sarah waved over her shoulder and headed out the door. 

Something in my manner must have tipped my hand as Ginger kissed me. She paused, looked at me.

"Everything OK?" she asked.

I thought about saying what was on my mind, but it wasn't the time. "Yea, of course." I said.

She eyed me. "Thomas?"

I sighed. "Look, last night...that was a lot...just feeling a little weird. I'm fine though, go have fun and I'll see you later, k?"

She stayed for another minute, looking at me. I held my ground.

She kissed me again, eyes open, then turned. Over her shoulder she said "OK...love you baby." And she was gone. I heard both cars drive away, didn't think much of it at the time, figuring she didn't want to make Sarah drive her home later.

The house was a bit of a wreck, what with remnants of their wine drinking last night, breakfast, Ginger's clothes, beds unmade. I knew Ginger didn't expect me to clean up, bit I did anyway. Less distractions for when she came home, and I could finally talk to her.

I killed the day bit by bit, taking a nap after cleaning up, then going for a run before showering. I went to the range, hit some golf balls, stopped by a men's store on the way home to pick up a few shirts and ties for work. I'd just gotten home after 4 and started thinking about making a nice dinner for Ginger, something to smooth the road before the talk I wanted to have, when her text came in.

"Hey babes...Sarah and I just finished a late lunch / early dinner. I'm gonna drop her off, then swing over to Chris'. Grab yourself some dinner if you're hungry...but save room, I'm bringing dessert. MWAH!"

I dropped on to the couch, staring slack-jawed at my phone. I began to tap out a reply, but nothing was coming out right. I struggled over it for about 10 minutes, ultimately giving up and not sending a reply at all. Maybe that would be message enough.

The tone of her message, again, told me this was business as usual to her. I wondered if I was reading too much in to it. The conspiracy theorist inside wouldn't let up, however. 

"You've been set up, see...you're the fall guy here...wake up and smell the coffee." he said, as if delivering a line in a '20's gangster movie. What can I say? That's the kind of shit that goes on in my head.

I grabbed a cold beer from the fridge, plopped back on the couch, and tried to watch some TV. I realized I was hungry after a bit, ordered a pizza for delivery, and just sat there drinking. I paced myself, I didn't want to be completely blotto when she came home. I wanted to maintain the sense of betrayal though, keep it simmering so that I wouldn't just roll over and succumb to sex when she came in all sloppy and disheveled. And of course, that thought brought others. This is what I had to fight. She would come home sloppy. Very sloppy. And damn, did I love her sloppy.

About 1/2 way through a 6pm Sports Center, I got up to grab another beer. I was a little unsteady, had a good buzz going. In the kitchen, fridge and freezer open as I grabbed an ice cold one from the freezer and replaced it with one from the fridge, I heard heels clicking on the tile behind me. I hadn't heard her come in the door. She was earlier than I expected.

I turned, swinging the doors shut, icy beer in hand. She was about 5 steps away. Her hair was a tossed-about mess. She'd put on eye makeup this morning, and it was smudged and smeared a bit. Not much, just enough to be noticeable. The rest of her makeup had been worn off. I flashed back to her face pressed against the white hotel sheets as Chris had fucked her from behind, guessing that something similar might be responsible for taking off today's application. My cock stirred.

Her sweater was held shut by two buttons in the middle. The top and bottom buttons were open. Her bra was gone, I was sure she'd worn one earlier. Her stomach and cleavage showed. Her nipples were clear through the tight knit.

Her jeans and boots appeared intact, so there was that, at least.

She smiled, stepping toward me slowly, watching me take her in.

"Be strong...be strong..." said the voice inside.

Sucker.

I opened my mouth, intending to tell her we needed to talk. She beat me to the punch.

"The answer is "Yes", baby." she whispered. Then she kissed me. She put her weight against me, pressed me back against the fridge. I kissed her back, a deep, sexy tongue kiss.

She pulled back. I just looked at her.

"The question I just answered was "Did you suck his cock?" And since I know how much you like to kiss on me when I do that, I thought you'd like a kiss." she said plainly.

I was aware of my mouth hanging open, snapped it shut as she leaned in to my personal space. With my next breath, I breathed her in. I could smell him on her.

She knew what her scent after her adventures did to me. She leaned closer still, inches separating our faces, eyes locked on mine.



"Did you know that I read cuckold stories on Lit, Thomas?" she asked in a husky whisper.

It was completely out of context and caught me flat-footed. 

"I, uhh...I guess I did know...sure." I said.

Where the hell had that come from? I could smell a bit of alcohol on her breath, tequila maybe? But she didn't seem drunk. Her smile told me she knew what she was doing.

Did I say smile?  No...she grinned. "OK. You know I read those stories. Did you know that I read a few every night while we were fighting?" she asked.

I shook my head.

"Mmmm. It was lonely up in that bed." She put a pout on her face. "I sat there reading them on the iPad and touch myself, reading about the dirty things these dirty boys do for their dirty girls, wondering if you'd do them for me."

My mouth was suddenly dry. I opened it to talk, heard a click in my throat. "Ginger...I wanted to talk to you."

"We are talking, baby." Her hand touched my stomach, slid down, moved over my crotch. My cock was rigid and throbbed beneath my jeans.

Let the record show that I, Thomas, did in fact make an earnest attempt to address my concerns with Ginger prior to falling completely under her freshly-fucked spell.

It was all down hill from there.

She continued. "So...in one story I particularly liked, this woman would go out and fuck her lovers, then bring home creampies for her husband. Sound familiar?"

I could only nod. I felt her hand leave my jeans, trail up my forearm, down over my hand, around the neck of my beer. I realized my hand hurt from holding the cold glass so long. I hadn't noticed.

Ginger took the beer from me, stepped back, picked our magnetic church key off the fridge behind me, and popped it open. Still close, still eying me, she took a long pull from it, smacked her lips as she swallowed. She was killing me. Looking back, they way she took that beer from me and drank on it rates as one of the sexiest things she's ever done to me, and I'm still not quite sure why.

"Except the thing was, this woman, she'd make her husband lick her panties before he could have her." she went on.

I was parched. Her lips were wet from the beer, and I could smell it fresh on her breath. She took another pull, saw me look longingly at the bottle, and handed it to me. I took a long pull myself, handed it back. She put her index finger on my lips, wiped it across, picking up a little wetness, then sucked it in to her mouth. Really, really killing me here.

"You like my panties, don't you, Thomas?"

"Uhhh...I didn't see which ones you put on today, Gin." I answered lamely. My head was spinning.

She laughed silently, shook her head. "Let me put it another way. Do I have any panties you don't like?"

Good point. I shook my head.

"Thought so. And do you remember, when we were fooling around, that time you came to Atlanta and tied me to the bed?"

Talk about a blast from the past. I had still been married, she was mid-post-divorce crazy phase. I brought some fake-fur lined wrist and ankle cuffs with me, a blindfold, and a CD I made. I picked up candles in an airport shop. She came to meet me in the room. The candles were lit when she arrived and I started the CD before letting her in. I didn't say a word to her, just stripped her to her panties and bra, coaxed her in to lying down, blindfolded her, and tied her to the bed. The CD had 56 minutes of music on it, all songs I found hauntingly sexy. I spent about 25 of those minutes teasing her relentlessly with my hands and lips, then another 15 licking her through her panties. Once the next-to-last song started, something more up-tempo, I pushed her panties aside and pushed myself into her, finishing about the time the last song wrapped up.

I could only nod. Yea. I remembered.

"Mmmm..." she purred. "You know how hot that made me, you licking me through my panties like you did?

"Pretty hot, if I remember right." I answered.

She nodded. "So...on my way home just now, I could feel Chris leaking out of me, you know? He filled me up pretty good, baby."

She paused, looking at me. I swallowed, my throat clicked dryly again.

"And I got to thinking about that story...that woman and her cuckold husband. And about that night in Atlanta. And about how much you seem to like my panties..."

She leaned in close, I thought to kiss me, and I moved my lips toward her. Instead she just got close, millimeters away, teasing me, eyes open and on me the whole time. I breathed her in. Then she stepped back a few paces, struck a little bit of a pose.

"Are you catching my drift, baby?" she asked.

I was. I moved to her, began to push her back toward the table, intending to set her on it and get to work. She pushed against me.

"Huh uh...right here, I'll stand. You better get my boots off first..."

Her hands were on my shoulders. She wanted me on my knees before her. I obliged.

As I unzipped one boot, then the other, she began to tell me how Chris had fucked her just a little while before. She steadied herself, hands on my shoulders, as I pulled off each boot.

"You want to leave my socks on?" she asked.

"Mmmm." I answered. She had on mid-calf dark cotton socks. I don't know why, but I like a girl wearing nothing but socks now and then. Ginger knew it.

"You can...I know you like that."

I set to work on her jeans. They were tight against her skin. 

"Careful not to pull my panties off with them." she directed as I began working them over her hips. It was hard not to pull them down together, but I managed it by going slowly. Again she balanced herself on me as I worked them over her feet. 

She stood above me, sweater, panties and socks. I stroked her soft thighs longingly, letting my hands slide up and over her hips, grasping the waist band of her panties as I moved closer to her. 




Ginger and Chris Ch. 02



"Slow now." she said.

A dark wet spot was visible in the black fabric. I pulled slowly, gaze fixed on the Y her legs formed. I noticed she'd shaved herself completely again this morning before leaving with Sarah, wondered briefly if it was Chris' request. I'd deal with it later, there was room for only one thing in my head right now.

Her slit came in to view slowly as I peeled them down. She parted her legs slightly. I sucked in breath as the fabric pulled away, a thin strand stretching from her pink lips to it. I heard myself moan. Eager now, I began to hurry them down over her legs. She didn't slow me, balanced once more to step out of them.

I picked them up off the floor, brought them toward my face. I could feel her watching me from above. A layer of viscous fluid coated the thinnest part of the fabric, the part that had been directly over the bottom of her slit. She'd worn them all day while out with Sarah. Her scent was strong in them. I breathed it in deeply, looked up at her.

I caught the bottom swell of her breasts beneath the sweater as I looked up, and an idea struck me. Reaching up with one hand, I unfastened the two buttons holding it closed. Her eyebrow raised as she watched in interest. The sweater fell open, exposing her nipples. I reached up with the panties, smeared some of the fluid across her left nipple, then her right.

"Mmmm..." she moaned as her eyes drifted shut. Then she looked back down at me. "You dirty little fuck." Her voice had an edge to it. "You want to lick his cum off my nipples? Is that it?" 

I nodded as I looked up at her.

"You know he sucked on them already, don't you?" 

I moaned.

"Oh? You weren't sure until just now? Well, he did baby. He even bit on them while he fucked me. And now...now you get to lick his cum off of them."

I began to stand up, but she pushed me back down, hand on my shoulder. 

"Clean them out first. I want to watch you lick it out of my dirty panties."

I brought them to my mouth, pushed my tongue in to what remained of the fluid. The taste was sharp.

"That's it, you dirty little fuck. Lick it up." she demanded. 

I complied. She wasn't usually so forceful with me, but I was enjoying it. I suspected that hint of tequila I'd smelled had something to do with it. She can be a mean drunk when drinking tequila, I have come to learn.

I licked her panties until no visible sign of the affair remained. She watched intently from above, a finger snaking down between her legs at brush across her clit as I did.

I risked trying to stand again, and she let me. I moved closer her, lowering my head toward her breasts, but she stopped me again, gripping the hand that held her panties as she did. 

Looking at me, a wicked smile playing in her eyes, she said "Suck on them."

I thought she meant her nipples. I moved toward them again. She squeezed my hand, let her nails bite the skin on the back of them. It got my attention.

"My panties, you dirty fuck. Suck the rest of it out of them..."

She raised our hands, pushed them toward my mouth as she did, forced them in with two of her fingers. I sucked the fabric, tasking the sharp tang of their juices again.

She moved her face close, smelling her own scent. "You like that, don't you? You like sucking what he left up in me out of my panties?" 

I nodded, sucking thirstily. She watched me for another 20 seconds or so, then grabbed them and pulled them away from me, stepping back. She eyed me, looked at them. Spread the fabric out with her fingers, as if inspecting them. She nodded, turned away from me. 

"C'mon..." she said. "We'll finish this upstairs."

I followed, dying to taste her. She made it to the bedroom before me. She reached the bed as I entered, turning toward me and standing beside it. I stopped just inside the door. She beckoned me with her index finger. I stood in front of her.

"You want to clean me up now, Thomas?"

I nodded.

"But...what if I decide not to let you? What if I don't want you to?"

"Please, baby." was all I could come up with.

"Please baby?" she mimicked. "Would you beg for it if I told you no?"

I nodded. "If that's what you want, I will."

She bit her lower lip, shook her head slowly. "Thomas...baby...it makes me so hot...so...fucking...hot...that you want me like this..."

She moved to me, put her forearms on my shoulders, kissed me hard, then pushed me down to my knees again. She raised one foot to the edge of the bed, parted her legs, and pushed my face in to her slit.

I began to lick at her, moving my head, giving my tongue an angle to slip inside of her. For her part, she did her best to overload my senses. Sight was out, my eyes were closed and I couldn't have seen anything but her shaved mound had they been open. All others were in play however. I could smell their sex in her scent and taste it as their juices slithered along my tongue toward my throat. Her lips were soft, smooth, and inside was slippery wet. As my mind processed these, her mouth rained a steady stream of filthy words on my ears. 

"Ohhhhh...you dirty, dirty fuck. You like that? Like licking up your dirty wife's dirty little slit, getting all her dirty lover's dirty cum out of it. That's it, lick it up you dirty little fuck..."

She proceeded to tell me how much I liked to think about her getting fucked while she was out, how much I looked forward to her coming home all used and sloppy, how I sat there waiting for her, cock throbbing in my pants while she was out fucking around on me. It was all true.

I pressed my thumb in between my mouth and her skin to rub her clit while I licked at her, felt her tense as her orgasm rolled through her, rewarding me with another dribble of her juices. She shifted her hips, moving her clit to my mouth. I licked and sucked on it, pushing two fingers up in to her to finger fuck her as I did. She came again, harder, buckling her knees and sending her back on to the bed. Fresh juice seeped out of her, and I moved quickly between her legs to lick it up.

"Fuck me baby...I need you to fuck me..." she said above me. 

I was still dressed, tore at my clothes, wound up pushing inside her with my jeans around one ankle, socks still on.

I tried to control myself, please her more, but she didn't seem concerned. She began talking dirty again, asking how her sloppy pussy felt, telling me how much I loved fucking her after another guy had used her up. I tried shifting in to position to get against her clit, but she just kept thrusting her hips up at me, pulling me in to her, telling me what a slut she was the whole time. I couldn't hold back, exploded inside her mid-thrust. 

She pressed her hand on my back, pulling me deep and holding me there, whispering in my ear..."That's it...fill me up...fill me up again..."

I quickly began to regain my senses, felt disgusted with myself for giving in so easily to her, for delaying something that was really important to me. I rolled off her, tried to steel myself again for a potential fight.

I could feel her looking at me, but she said nothing. After a few minutes of practicing how I'd start in my head, she craned her neck around to look at the clock. I checked the one on my side of the bed. Not yet eight o'clock.

She stretched, waited another minute for me to say something. I balked.

"It's still early...you want to go down the corner for a few drinks?" she asked. Then without waiting for an answer, she stood up and headed for the bathroom. I watched her long blonde hair swish back and forth across her back, let my eyes drift to her cute ass until the bathroom door closed. I heard the shower come on after a few seconds.

I used the guest bath to shower, was finished and back in the bedroom getting dressed as she came out wrapped in a towel. I sat and watched as she patted herself dry and dressed. She glanced back at me in the mirror now and then, a shy smile on her lips. She pulled on plain black cotton panties, a tight white tank in place of a bra, a loose knit sweater over top, and tight faded jeans. She pulled her damp hair back in a cute pony tail, caught me watching in the mirror again, blushed slightly. She picked a pair of flirty leopard-print flats from her closet, leaned against the dresser and pulled them over her bare feet, looking at me.

"See something you like?" she asked. I'd sat and stared at her the whole time.

"I see everything I like." I answered.

She walked toward the door, squeezed my forearm affectionately as she passed and said "You need to STOP..." with a giggle, then headed downstairs. It was a nice moment, I'd sat there looking at how beautiful she was, just plain Ginger, no make-up, no special hairdo, no special clothing, just my wife as she is naturally. She'd known it, and she'd liked it.

"The Corner" as we call it is just a pair of shopping centers across from each other at a big intersection near our development. There are several chain restaurants and bars scattered throughout. We settled on a chain sports bar we both like, got a high-top table in the corner, and ordered drinks. Beer for me, margarita for her. I was happy to see her enjoying sweet drinks again, I missed the little bit of baby fat she'd worked off over the past few months.

We sat catty-corner to each other, each with our backs against the wall, looking out at the bar. The beer was cold and I was nervous again. I sat and pretended to people watch. I felt Ginger watching me. I looked at her now and then, smiled awkwardly. She sat waiting for me to talk. I was half-way through my third beer, they were going down easy. Ginger was well in to her second drink as well.

"How are they?" I asked, nodding to her glass. 

She sipped. "Good. Strong. Stronger than the ones I had at lunch."

So she'd had a few, and it had been tequila. Maybe that explained her aggressiveness after all. Mentioning lunch opened an easy out conversationally for me.

"How's Sarah holding up?"

Ginger sighed. "She's OK. Fucking Jeff, what an ass. He wasn't home when I dropped her off. Might have been good, she had one more than me and was ready to fight. I'm hoping she passed out before he got home. I swear, if he came home smelling like that woman again today and Sarah was awake, she might've killed him."

We talked a bit about the situation, whether she was sure he was cheating, if she knew what she was going to do, along those lines. Then I asked about Friday night with Sarah, whether they were OK after what happened.

"Surprised you, huh?" she asked with a sly smile. 

"A little bit." I replied. "But, I'd always heard that threesomes were a bad idea if all three people knew each other. Like, the third should be a stranger to the other two so that it didn't cause issues, hurt feelings, like that."

"Clearly your first rodeo, babes." she said coolly. I must have blanched. "Oops, shit, that came out wrong." She touched my arm. "I just meant that, well...shit, it's not like you don't know...Sarah and I have a long history together and we haven't always been angels. You aren't the first guy we've shared."

I felt embarrassed for some reason. She'd never actually told me about threesomes with Sarah, but that didn't bother me, obviously. It was more a feeling of being the only virgin in the room, if you've ever felt like that.

"I, uh....I guess I picked up on that..." I said awkwardly. "I just don't want anything hurting your friendship."

"Awww..you're so sweet. Don't worry though. It was a little weird this morning, but we talked it out, and I feel like we're OK. Me and Sar have been together long enough to know you just have to keep talking when things don't feel right." She squeezed my forearm.

I felt the underlying message in her last sentence.

The waitress brought another round. I took a long pull, felt my head buzzing. Ginger was on her third, she had to be feeling it too.

I sat back, pretended to people-watch again. I noticed a guy at the bar looking our way, looking at Ginger actually. He saw me, looked down at his drink. I felt Ginger's foot caress my calf beneath the table. I looked away from him, kept him in the corner of my eye, saw him look at her again. I glanced across the table at her. She lifted her drink, stared directly at him over the rim of the glass as she pulled the straw in with her tongue and sipped. Her foot made long, sexy strokes along the back of my calf as she openly flirted with the guy. He saw me look at him again, turned away.

Ginger set her drink down, looked at me.

Enough. I felt my cock stirring. I had to get this off my chest before anything else happened.

"Gin...I..uh, I want to talk to you about something."

"I know...you finally going to tell me what's on your mind, or are we gonna fight again?" she said. There was no anger, just a plainly stated question.

For as long as I'd held it in, as much as I labored over what to say, it came out surprisingly quick.

"I feel like you set me up Friday night. The thing with Sarah was great...amazing...but...but after, you were in such a rush to go see him...it felt like the whole thing was just so you could go and see him again."

There, it was out. Pathetic though..."him"? I sounded like a wuss...use his name for chrissakes.

Ginger's mouth hung open slightly. Her cheeks were turning red. Anger, not embarrassment. Whatever she'd thought I was going to say, that had not been it. Her eyes began to fill, her lip quivered. She looked down, then grabbed at her purse on the table. Her hands shook. I thought she was going to leave, but she stayed put, began fumbling through her purse. She got frustrated, took a big breath, tried to calm herself. I reached across for her arm, but she pulled back, resumed digging in her purse, finally pulling her phone out. For the second time in the past two weeks, she tossed it on to the table, this time with more force behind it. It clattered noisily across the hard wood toward me, clinking off my glass. I felt people looking at us, but Ginger's eyes were fixed on me, oblivious to anyone else.

I glanced at her phone, had no idea what I should do. She glared at me, a tear spilled over from one eye and rolled down her cheek. She wiped at it angrily, opened her mouth to talk, but her breath hitched. She stopped, collected herself, and her words came out in a harsh whisper.

"What you just said...that would be....that is a shitty, shitty thing to do to somebody. And I can't BELIEVE that you think I could do something so shitty to you Thomas."

I was aware people knew we were fighting, straining to listen in. I opened my mouth to talk. I didn't plan to apologize, but I hated to see her hurt, hated when she cried. No, no apology, I felt like I had a point, but I wanted to say something. She cut me off before I uttered a word.

"Go on...I don't erase anything...I don't keep secrets...go on and look." she said, nodding at her phone.

I had no idea what I should look at I just sat there.

She was getting on a roll, didn't wait for me to figure it out. "I didn't even talk to Chris, didn't even THINK about getting in touch with him, until I worked things out with Sarah. I wasn't even sure she wanted to do it until Tuesday after work when we talked it all the way through. I thought I was gonna have to go to plan B, and I didn't want to talk to Chris until I knew what I was doing for you...FOR YOU..."

She stopped short, voice catching, fighting back a sob. I reached over, gripped her forearm. A good sign, she didn't pull away.

"Go on and look if you want." she continued sharply. "Check my messages. I didn't even text him until Thursday afternoon, and I just told him I might be talking to him soon. I didn't hear back 'til Friday after work, and he just asked me to come over. It's not like I had a lot of time to talk it over with you. And I thought you said you were OK with it..."

Her voice trailed off. She started to cry silently, got pissed at herself, fought it off.

You know how you just feel like a total dick sometimes? That was me right then. I thought for a minute while she collected herself. Sipped my beer. I didn't know what to say or do. I glanced at her phone.

"Go on." she said.

I took it, she already had the text conversation with Chris open. It hurt a little to read. They were very comfortable with each other, it came through in the tone of their messages. But it wasn't unusual, really. Ginger is like that with everyone she likes. And she was right, I could see from the time stamps that they hadn't talked in a while, then it happened just like she said from Thursday to Friday. It also looked like today was spontaneous, he texted her just before she sent me the message telling me she was going over there. 

Did I mention feeling like a dick? My face was hot, and I hoped the dim lighting hid how red it was. I sat back, sighed. If you ever need instructions on how to fuck up a good thing, drop me an email. I have a knack for it.

We sat there, each sipping our drinks. She wouldn't look at me. I watched as her composure slowly returned. Finally I got up, walked around the table to her, bumped my knees against hers a few times until she looked up at me.

"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions. I guess I should have known better, and I'll try to take things at face value and not read in to them from now on." I told her.

She nodded curtly, looked down again, leaving me standing there. I waited a bit, then went back to my seat and took another sip. I didn't want it to continue.

"Look, Gin...I don't want to fight anymore. I..."

She looked up and cut me off. "It's OK...I...I can see how it might have looked, sitting here thinking about it. It's just that....baby...you have to know by now that I'm not like her. I don't play that shit with you."

"Her" is my ex. "That shit" sums up the head games that were played in my first marriage. Not that anything similar to this had happened with my ex, but instead that she did things specifically to keep me off balance and cause me pain. I know Ginger isn't like that, but I guess I'd also come to expect things...being set up like I thought she had done, for instance.

I reached across the table and this time she took my hand and met my eyes. I opened my mouth but she shook her head.

"Thomas...let's just move past it, OK? It's been a tough few weeks. I won't do that kind of thing to you. And from now on, I'll make sure I tell you my plans as soon as I set something up with Chris, so there are no surprises."

I felt the tug in my stomach and suppose there was a corresponding look on my face at her words. I was happy to put it behind us, but I'd had an open question whether she'd continue to see Chris. She'd just answered that without me even asking. She picked up on it.

"Oh...I see." she said. "Do you not want me to see him anymore?" 

I could have taken minutes, hours, days on the decision, but instead I took a leap of faith in her. I shook my head.

"No. It's hard, don't get me wrong. But I can see how much you like it, and if I'm honest with myself, I like it too. I just need to get over the insecurity, but I'll handle it."

She sighed, and I sensed relief, which made me smile. Lucky she wasn't looking at me or I would have had to explain.

We sat for a bit more, I was getting near the end of my beer and thought we might leave soon. She was looking at her drink, and a smile began to curve the corner of her mouth upwards.

"What?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"C'mon, you gonna keep secrets?" I teased.

She looked at me, bit her lower lip. "This is the second time you've been jealous since we started...you know. You never got jealous before."

"And this makes you smile?"

"I'm sorry...I know it shouldn't." she said.

"Here's some news...I'm jealous every time. Every single time. But then you come back to me, and it's all better."