Back under the smooth sheets of her bed she closed her eyes, her fingertip pressed repeatedly against the cleft of her clit. The corner of her mouth turned into a grin as her mind once again drifted into the erotic encounters of the night before. Looking up into his face and feeling the warmth of his hard cock against her lip. His phone beep beeped again and she was jerked from her feelings. His phone was beginning to annoy her with all its interruptions into her erotic thoughts. Then at that very moment, it beeped again. Fucking text messages she thought, then she hmmmmmm-ed. She reached for the phone.
By the time he rang the door bell she was in her robe sitting in the chair near the front door with the phone weighing heavily in her open palm. She was fuming. This is bullshit was her mantra. It didn’t surprise her when he arrived within fifteen minutes and seemed guilty and anxious as she opened the door. She said nothing with her mouth but her body language and expression said it all.
His excuses came tumbling out. She kept her cool, saying nothing, her arms crossed. His reasons, defenses and apologies meant nothing to her, the fact was, he was a married man. Finally he quieted and lowered his eyes. It was her turn. She spoke her mantra once more, “This is Bullshit!”
He said one simple but sincere sounding word “Please” and then dropped to his knees. She felt livid but his gesture also made her curious. She hadn’t known this man to seem needy or desperate in the nearly month they had been dating. He always seems self assured and confident. He did not seem like the type of man who would drop to his knees. If he had been he wouldn’t of lasted this long.
Her voice took on a sharp cool edge. “Please what? You’re a fucking piece of shit? What the hell do you expect me to do with you – You’re Fucking Married!”
“I don’t know…” he stammered, “I don’t want to lose you; I don’t know what to do…”
She paced up and down the room thinking; she glanced at him and noticed he was staring at her feet. Her toes were recently manicured, French tips on her nails. She liked him too. She didn’t want to lose him yet either. It wasn’t like she hadn’t dated married men before but she just never suspected him of being married. Maybe she could live with this, if she could find some way of restoring her bruised ego… She sat back in the chair, re-crossed her legs and looked at him. He had his head downturned but it was unmistakable, he was staring at her legs as they peaked out of the slit of her robe. And sure enough, as he kneeled, there was a visible stain on the front of his pants. Her mind raced.
He was making no attempt to cover his arousal. She found it unbelievable. She set her jaw and glared at him. She was even more surprised to see a blush wash across his cheeks. At that moment she noticed his hard cock flex under the fabric of his slacks. She had never felt the feelings she was feeling at that moment. She wanted to hurt him and fuck him all at once. There might be some help for that bruised ego of hers after all. She leaned back in her chair and purposefully let her robe expose more of her toned thighs. Did he just shiver? She wondered. She decided she needed to test her hunches.
“Are you hard right now? “ She asked him, her voice slightly mocking. He nodded.
“Show me.” She challenged. He stood and silently began removing his pants. Her mind was spinning; she was thrilled at this new sensation of power. It was puzzling though because under that thrill she still felt hurt and angry for being lied to. Here in front of her, this man, whom she truly liked, this married man, who had hurt her was kneeling naked and wanting her. She stood and walked toward him; he reached behind his back and clasped both hands. His posture was of complete humility. She looked at him and felt her stomach tighten. She realized what she felt was arousal at his surrender. And she wanted to touch him; specifically she wanted to wound him. Or maybe it was punish him…