prematurely ejaculated inside Ashley. She hadn’t even come close to orgasm. Here I’d set this up as a night of significance, and when the penultimate moment finally arrived, I was three quick pumps and done.
We didn’t bring it up afterwards.
I just knew I couldn’t let that happen again.
****
The next afternoon I was planning on making Ashley dinner—and initiating sex again—to stamp out last night’s memory. But then she called me.
She was going out with Tamara for drinks.
I felt crushed. Especially hearing Tamara’s name, but I did my best to sound normal. To sound not phased in the slightest. “OK, so I’ll see you later tonight—have fun.”
I paced my office, feeling slightly ill. Ashley and Tamara go out together a few times a month. This wasn’t unusual. It had never bothered me before, but now I had reason to be bothered. This was the girl who had basically offered my wife up to Jim Murta.
It wasn’t until I got home that I really had a chance to think about it. I pictured the two of them sitting at a table, ordering designer cocktails, and dishing about the last couple weeks.
Obviously they would be talking about the “rumor.” How could they not? They both had starring roles in it. It’s possible Tamara was embarrassed, but I doubted it. She was single and hadn’t been the one getting fucked. Sure, she had been provocative, but that was her personality. While she probably tones it down at work, people would already have that perception of her.
I assumed she did feel bad for Ashley, and how the story had spread like wildfire around the office. But I could also see her taking satisfaction from it. Tamara had gotten Ashley to stray, from the husband she’s never liked. She had gotten Ashley to spread her pussy and take another man’s cock, with her husband right outside. She might have been nervous hearing my voice when I first knocked —afraid my knocking might derail whatever had started. But when she realized it hadn’t, she must have relished sending me upstairs. Had she included my name, just to make sure Jim Murta knew exactly who was being relegated upstairs?
What nerve Tamara had inviting him in. And what gall to tell him to pull out his cock in front of my wife, utterly dismissing me, my feelings, our marriage, asking him, “Which one of us do you want to fuck?”
I pictured Ashley and Tamara sitting at the bar. Ashley would be telling her what she had said to me last week.
“So he hadn’t heard?” Tamara would ask.
“No,” Ashley would say. “When I realized he hadn’t, I downplayed it like it was nothing.”
How much did Ashley confide in Tamara? Girls talk. Had Ashley talked to her about our sex life before? Told her explicit things? Expressed dissatisfaction?
Tamara was probably more aware of how happy or unhappy my wife was in our marriage than I was. She was no doubt privy to things about Ashley that I was not. Could Ashley be telling her about our sex the prior night?
“How premature is ‘premature’?” Tamara would ask.
“Um, I don’t know” Ashley might tell her, “about thirty seconds.”
Tamara would burst out laughing.
I took out the photo album and found a photo of Tamara from Halloween. She leaned into the camera, a flirtatious, mischievous smile on her face as it captured her cleavage.
What a fool that girl had made of me that night! Sending me, the husband, away, so my wife could get fucked. And now my wife was having drinks with this girl.
Tamara knew all about that night. She had been there, watching everything. She knew exactly what was happening when I knocked on that door. She knew if Ashley had sucked his cock.
Had she rooted Jim on as he fucked my wife?
Goddamn Tamara, were you cheerleading it?
I unbelted my pants and pulled out my dick. I shook my head, telling myself I shouldn’t be doing this. But I also thought that if I
We didn’t bring it up afterwards.
I just knew I couldn’t let that happen again.
****
The next afternoon I was planning on making Ashley dinner—and initiating sex again—to stamp out last night’s memory. But then she called me.
She was going out with Tamara for drinks.
I felt crushed. Especially hearing Tamara’s name, but I did my best to sound normal. To sound not phased in the slightest. “OK, so I’ll see you later tonight—have fun.”
I paced my office, feeling slightly ill. Ashley and Tamara go out together a few times a month. This wasn’t unusual. It had never bothered me before, but now I had reason to be bothered. This was the girl who had basically offered my wife up to Jim Murta.
It wasn’t until I got home that I really had a chance to think about it. I pictured the two of them sitting at a table, ordering designer cocktails, and dishing about the last couple weeks.
Obviously they would be talking about the “rumor.” How could they not? They both had starring roles in it. It’s possible Tamara was embarrassed, but I doubted it. She was single and hadn’t been the one getting fucked. Sure, she had been provocative, but that was her personality. While she probably tones it down at work, people would already have that perception of her.
I assumed she did feel bad for Ashley, and how the story had spread like wildfire around the office. But I could also see her taking satisfaction from it. Tamara had gotten Ashley to stray, from the husband she’s never liked. She had gotten Ashley to spread her pussy and take another man’s cock, with her husband right outside. She might have been nervous hearing my voice when I first knocked —afraid my knocking might derail whatever had started. But when she realized it hadn’t, she must have relished sending me upstairs. Had she included my name, just to make sure Jim Murta knew exactly who was being relegated upstairs?
What nerve Tamara had inviting him in. And what gall to tell him to pull out his cock in front of my wife, utterly dismissing me, my feelings, our marriage, asking him, “Which one of us do you want to fuck?”
I pictured Ashley and Tamara sitting at the bar. Ashley would be telling her what she had said to me last week.
“So he hadn’t heard?” Tamara would ask.
“No,” Ashley would say. “When I realized he hadn’t, I downplayed it like it was nothing.”
How much did Ashley confide in Tamara? Girls talk. Had Ashley talked to her about our sex life before? Told her explicit things? Expressed dissatisfaction?
Tamara was probably more aware of how happy or unhappy my wife was in our marriage than I was. She was no doubt privy to things about Ashley that I was not. Could Ashley be telling her about our sex the prior night?
“How premature is ‘premature’?” Tamara would ask.
“Um, I don’t know” Ashley might tell her, “about thirty seconds.”
Tamara would burst out laughing.
I took out the photo album and found a photo of Tamara from Halloween. She leaned into the camera, a flirtatious, mischievous smile on her face as it captured her cleavage.
What a fool that girl had made of me that night! Sending me, the husband, away, so my wife could get fucked. And now my wife was having drinks with this girl.
Tamara knew all about that night. She had been there, watching everything. She knew exactly what was happening when I knocked on that door. She knew if Ashley had sucked his cock.
Had she rooted Jim on as he fucked my wife?
Goddamn Tamara, were you cheerleading it?
I unbelted my pants and pulled out my dick. I shook my head, telling myself I shouldn’t be doing this. But I also thought that if I
Similar Books
