Susan Ch. 02

"Well, how was he?"

That was the first thing my best friend Kelly asked me when she finally returned to work, and it was the last thing I wanted to hear.

I gave her a blank look, the body language equivalent of, "What?" as though I had no idea what she was asking about.

I knew exactly what she was asking. Her husband Jack had seduced me at a Department Christmas party almost a week earlier. I had just given him a blow job at the party, but I had spent much of the time she was gone having almost continuous sex with him. He came by my house every day and spent several hours there, most of it with his dick in my pussy, or my mouth, or between my tits, or somewhere else it shouldn't have been, and if not his dick then his tongue, or his fingers. And it was marvelous—all of it. Yes, he was my best friend's husband, but I had been doing without sex for the two years since my divorce, and I just couldn't get enough of him.

He had told me that Kelly wouldn't care, but doesn't every philandering husband say that? Of course they do. I had spent almost a week vacillating between feeling tremendous guilt about the sex I was having with my best friend's husband, the lust I felt for him and his seductive ways, and the wild excitement I experienced when he brought me to climax after climax with his dick, his fingers, his tongue, and, oh god, even his toes. The sex had been like nothing I had ever imagined, much less experienced. But how could I tell Kelly that?

So now my lover had left town for an extended business trip and I was standing face to face with his wife, and my best friend, in the line to get coffee at a campus Starbucks. We were both due at our jobs in the University's admissions office, and she wanted to know, "How was he?" How the hell could I answer that?

I was still in the blank stare mode when the barista asked for our order. Kelly let the moment pass, and we focused on our coffee order. The walk back to our office was occupied with discussion of her trip and her mother's health condition. At the office it was crunch time. We had to get the first round of early admission letters out, so the topic of Jack didn't come up again.

We worked until 8 getting the packets assembled and ready to mail first thing the next day. When we finished, Kelly said, "God, I'm bushed . . . and I'm starved. How about a pizza. Let's go to my place and order out. I've got some cheap red wine to go with it, and I can get out of these work clothes. My feet are killing me."

"Where's Jack?" I asked, feeling a knot in my stomach. I wasn't ready to face both of them at once.

"Oh, he's in Paris for at least a week. Presenting a paper at some conference. He let me see a draft and I couldn't understand a word of it. I guess that's what I get for marrying a techie."

I felt the knot in my stomach unwind. I paused for a moment and then said, "Yes, that sounds like just what I need." I still didn't know what I was going to say if she came back to the question she had asked when we were in Starbucks in the morning, but like her, I was tired and hungry, and I wanted a drink.

Kelly and her husband lived in a beautiful little cottage that was just off the University grounds. It was only a couple of blocks from where we worked. As we came out the door, I started toward my car, and she said, "Come on, we'll walk. I could use the exercise." Before we walked the two or three blocks to her house, she sat on a bench and exchanged her tall stylish pumps for a pair of running shoes she kept under her desk during the day.

"Thank god Jack left Boston and moved out here," she said. "We would be freezing in Boston right now."

"Palo Alto's hard to beat," I responded, "But why did he leave? That was a pretty big job he had there. He was a rising star."

"Well, he has his own lab here, and that's important." She paused for a minute and then chuckled.

"What?"

"There was a problem in Boston. I'll tell you about it, but let's get back to the house and get a drink first."

"Okay."

As we walked she was humming and swinging her heels. "Jack calls these my 'fuck me' heels," she said. Kelly always wore tall sexy looking heels. I had given up on those during my marriage when my sex adverse husband called them my "slut shoes." When Jack called me a slut it sent a surge of lust through me. It was intended as a compliment—the nastiest kind. When my ex-husband had called me a slut he intended to put me down and make me feel worthless, and it did. I loved it when Jack called me a slut. I hated it when my ex-husband did it.

I laughed, saying, "That sounds like Jack." I thought about how he had insisted I wear some tall heels I had left in my closet during some of the sex games we had played during Kelly's absence.

"And does he?" I continued aloud.

Now Kelly laughed. "Oh yeah," she responded stretching out the words for emphasis. "He seriously fucks me when I wear these." She paused for a moment. "But then you should know, shouldn't you? About how 'fuck me' heels get him going?"

The knot in my stomach returned instantly. There we were standing in front of Kelly's house and she had just accused me of fucking her husband.

"What?"

I said, "You should know how good Jack is in bed and what some of his kinks are. You've been fucking him ever since the Christmas party, . . . haven't you, Susan?"

She knew. But how? Jack must have told her. I couldn't begin to respond. I broke into tears and stood there in the middle of her front walk sobbing."

"Susan, Susan, stop crying, There's no need for that," she said. "You are far from the first woman he has seduced since we have been married. He told me all about it."

"Really," I sniffed. "Th, th, then," I stuttered. "Then you're not mad?"

Kelly laughed. "Hardly. If I got into a jealous rage every time Jack seduced another woman, I would have probably succumbed to a stroke or something along time ago. Come on inside and let's talk about it."

"Uh . . .okay." I was still sniffling.

Kelly unlocked the front door and let us in. As soon as we stepped in, the lights throughout the main area of the house came up. I kind of spun my head at the change.

"It's the sensor system Jack put in. It's useful to have an engineer for a husband. Even if he is a horn dog," Kelly said with a laugh. She certainly didn't seem troubled by my admission that I had been fucking her husband.

We walked on through to the kitchen where the lights again came up as we entered. I found it a little unnerving, but then I was in a fragile state anyway.

"Now," she said. "I think we need something to drink and it needs to be a little stronger than the red wine I suggested earlier." She opened a liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of gin. Within minutes we were sitting in the living room, each with a gin and tonic. I took a long pull on mine, thankful it was far more gin than tonic. We were sitting at opposite ends of a couch, shoes off and our legs pulled up and curled beneath us, which pushed her dress and mine well up our thighs.

"Susan, let's talk. I can tell that rotten husband of mine didn't do a good job of explaining our relationship to you."

"Well," I said. "He told me you wouldn't care, and you both had sex with others. But that's the kind of thing lots of cheating husbands say." I could feel my guilt creeping back. If I didn't believe him why hadn't I said no, I thought? "He also said you were bi."

"Okay, well that's all true but it doesn't sound like you were convinced."

"Uh . . . no . . . not for sure." I was holding my drink in my hands in my lap unable to look my best friend in the eye.

There was silence and then I said, "But I fucked him anyway. Oh Kelly I'm so ashamed. It had been so long and I just couldn't resist."

"Don't be," she said. "You just described a classic Jack Mortensen seduction, and I'm a little pissed about it. Not at you, but at him, for treating my good friend that way."

I looked at her and shook my head. "I don't understand?"

"Let me refill these drinks, and I'll explain."

She was back minutes later with two new tumblers of gin vaguely touched by tonic. I didn't care. I needed a strong drink now. The other thing that was missing besides the tonic was Kelly's bra. Her big tits were bouncing freely as she walked across the room.

She took a long pull on her drink as she sat down, leaning against the arm of the couch opposite the end I was at. "Oh yes, I needed that," she said. "And," she added, "You may have noticed, I let the girls out to play." She shimmied her big soft boobs at me. "I do get so tired of that bra some days."

I also noticed that the stockings she had been wearing had gone missing, but I said nothing about that.

"Now," she said. "Let me explain. Jack has this strange idea that if a woman is wracked with guilt about having sex with him, but none-the-less gives in, she will enjoy the sex a great deal more. He says that when people believe they are getting away with something the sex is so much better."

There is some truth to that, I thought as I sipped my gin.

I knew before you ever went upstairs with him that he was going to try to seduce you. As soon as we walked in the room, he asked who you were, a clear sign he intended to seduce you. Later, of course he told me everything that happened. We always do that."

"Just the Christmas party, right . . . or did he tell you about everything . . . else?"

"All of it. He called me every night after he left you. He didn't give me all of the details, and I'd love to hear some of that from you."

"And you didn't object?"

"No and I still don't. That's the way our marriage works. He fucks who he wants and I fuck who I want. And we fuck each other. So you see, there is no reason for you to feel guilty. I just feel bad that I didn't tell you all this in advance."

I was really feeling the gin now. Just the gin—no guilt. I noticed Kelly had released the top two buttons of her blouse exposing a lot of cleavage between her voluptuous boobs. In addition to being a little drunk, I was feeling more than a little turned on. "By Kelly? How. I'm not a lesbian," I told myself.

I was silent for a long time thinking about what I had just told myself. Eventually I said, "Let me ask a question. Jack said you told him you wanted to see my tits. Was that true?" I wasn't sure I really wanted to know, but . . . sometimes you just have to ask, or you do anyway if you have had enough gin.

She smiled, and whispered, "Yes." She paused for a moment as she released the last two buttons on her blouse and said, "I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours."

I was just drunk enough to giggle at her trite saying. Then for some reason I still don't understand, I said, "Okay," and began to slowly unbutton my blouse. I took my time, like a strip tease.

Minutes later we were both sitting on the couch naked from the waist up and I was holding my breasts out to her, asking, "Are they everything you imagined they would be?"

Kelly looked at me in silence and licked her lips. Finally responding, she said, "Oh my yes. I'll bet Jack had fun with those didn't he? They're as big as mine are."

I was suddenly incredibly horny. I leaned back, still holding my tits, one in each hand and began rubbing each nipple with a thumb. "I confess, Kelly, Jack and I had a lot of fun, and not just with my tits."

She set her drink down on the floor and crawled across the couch towards me, on her hands and knees, her big tits swinging lustily beneath her as she approached me. "And I think there is a lot of fun you and I could have too, Susan." When she reached me, her knees were pressed against mine and one arm was leaning on the back of the couch. I was leaning back, but she reached out with her free arm to the back of my neck and pulled me to her. Then she kissed me with the longest, softest, sexiest kiss I had ever experienced. Even Jack couldn't match her warm, soft lips and her softly probing tongue. Jack was rough and aggressive with his tongue. Kelly was slow, tender and seductive. While she kissed me, I could feel her engorged nipples dragging slowly back and forth across the tops of my tits. I was overcome with lust.

That was when the doorbell rang.

Kelly pulled away slowly and softly, ignoring the second and third rings of the doorbell until she was sure she was leaving me in a good place.

"It's the pizza delivery," she said as she pulled back and sat up before me. Her face and throat were flushed, and her big nipples were swollen and hard. "I forgot about him." She stood, threw her blouse on, not bothering to button it, and headed for the door. I couldn't help but notice how sexy her broad ass looked as she wiggled out of the room, even if she still did have her skirt on. Oh my, I thought. What have I gotten myself into.

She came back carrying the pizza in one hand, her blouse open and her big boobs wiggling for all the world to see. She was laughing. "I didn't have enough cash for a tip," she said. "So I flashed my tits at him and shimmied a bit. He went away happy."

She put the pizza on the table and slipped out of her blouse again. I wanted . . . well, I didn't know exactly what I wanted, but I was sure that I wanted to do something with those luscious looking tits. What am I thinking, I wondered? I'm not a lesbian. Am I?

"Yum, that smells good. Let me get some plates and that cheap wine I promised," she said as she walked off toward the kitchen. She returned shortly with plates, a couple of wine glasses and a jug of red wine. She had the lost the rest of her clothes while she was in the kitchen. I noticed that her pussy was cleanly shaved. After setting things down on the table, she did a little pirouette. When finished, she looked at me and said, "Nude pizza on Friday. Care to join me?"

I knew it was an invitation to more than just the pizza and wine. How much I was willing to accept, I didn't know, but I stripped off my remaining clothes and pulled up a chair next to Kelly. Our naked thighs were touching. Her skin felt sensuous, soft and warm.

"God I'm starving she said as we both waded into the pizza. We were silent as we inhaled the juicy, greasy, pizza, but as we ate, I could feel her warm thigh moving next to mine, and much as I was enjoying pizza, my mind was still focused on how sensual the kiss interrupted by the pizza dude had been, and wondering where it would have gone had he not arrived.

"You said there were problems in Boston?" I asked after pausing to wash down pizza with the red wine. "Was Jack screwing a Dean's wife or something?" I was feeling the booze. Otherwise I never would have asked that question.

Kelly chuckled. "No, I was."

"What? You were having an affair with a Dean's wife?"

"Yup. Her husband was Dean of the college of Arts and Letters, a stuffy old English Lit professor, thirty years her senior. She didn't know she was gay until she met me. Our affair went on for almost a year—every Wednesday afternoon. She was such a horny little slut. It was working great until her husband walked in on us one afternoon."

"He didn't take it well?"

Kelly laughed. "Christie and I were completely naked, sharing a big double ended dildo. We had it shoved so far into our cunts that our clits were almost rubbing against each other. The Dean walked in just as Christie reached a screaming climax. He just stared until she finally came down and then he came completely unhinged. Ultimately, he divorced her and there was a big scandal when the whole story spread all over the campus. It's hard to keep something like that secret in a University. They're just like a small town. The President of the University helped Jack land his new job here just to get rid of us."

"So, how did this affair start?"

Kelly smiled. "I kissed her, just like I kissed you. We were in the ladies room at some fund raising gala fixing our makeup, and when she turned towards me, I kissed her. It was a long kiss and when it was over she wanted more, so we began meeting on Wednesday afternoons at her house. I guess I should have used our house instead. If Jack had walked in on us, he would have just wanted a threesome. Not a very public divorce and social shaming. The Dean was an asshole."

A threesome! The thought of a threesome with the obviously bi Kelly and her lusty husband made my pussy tingle.

"And did you like our kiss?" she asked. She had a hand lightly rubbing my thigh as she asked.

"Yes. You are a very good. I've never been kissed like that."

"Thank you. I've started a lot of affairs that way."

She paused for a moment, chewing her pizza. "Umm. That's good pizza, but tell me Susan, have you ever been with a woman?" Now her hand had moved to the inside of my thigh. I spread my legs to accommodate her.

"No," I said. "Well maybe a little in college, but we never went very far, and that was a long time ago. It was kind of scary."

"How far did you go?"

"Oh, we just kissed a bit, and . . ." I looked down and away. "And then we watched each other masturbate," I whispered.

"Pretty racy," Kelly said with a smile. "For what were you, maybe 19?"

"Yes, 19. It was scary. We both believed it was wrong. . . but it was good too. We were too young and afraid to go any further."

"I understand," Kelly responded. "I was that way when I was 19. But the woman I was with was older and she took me further, much, much further."

"Oh."

"There's nothing to be afraid of Susan. It's not wrong. It's fun. Like Jack . . . only better." She kissed me again. The same long, soft, arousing kiss we had before the pizza dude's arrival. It tasted like pizza, but that didn't matter. It was the soft sensation of her lips and tongue on mine. But this time she had a hand on my breast, softly and slowly caressing it, while her hand on the inside of my thigh continued to work it's way higher.

When we finished the kiss, we were both breathing harder and flushed. "See," she said "there's nothing to be afraid of." She was still playing with my tits and caressing the inside of my thigh.

"I just thought . . . well . . ." I didn't know what to say. "Some people say it's wrong. My Mother said it was wrong. My ex always said it was wrong."

"Mothers always say it is wrong," Kelly said with a smile, "even if they are doing the neighbor lady. Mothers mean well, but it's usually best to ignore them. Your ex was just an asshole like the Dean in Boston. We already decided your ex was an asshole months ago." Kelly had helped me recover emotionally from my divorce.

What she was doing to my breasts felt so good. I couldn't imagine stopping. "Oh that's nice," I said. Her finger tips were softly rubbing my engorged nipples. I decided I really didn't care what people might think. This was just too nice not to have. I groaned softly.

"Oh so you like that, do you? Can you do it for me?"

We rotated in the chairs so we were facing each other. Each of us had both hands on the others tits, massaging them softly and slowly. I leaned forward and this time I initiated the kiss. I tried to kiss her with all the tenderness she had kissed me with, using the tip of my tongue to slide back and forth along her teeth or a little tag with the tip of her tongue, and letting her reciprocate.

After a seemingly never ending kiss, she leaned back looking deep into my eyes. "You know Susan there is really so much more we could do to pleasure each other, but we should move to a bed. . . . unless of course you want to stay here and eat pizza.

"Pizza, what pizza?" I responded as I rose from the chair. This was the second time I had been seduced in a week and I was coming to enjoy it. We left a half-eaten pizza on the kitchen table and walked to Kelly's bedroom. The pizza was still there cold and ugly looking when I came out to the kitchen the next morning.

My evening with Kelly was like no sex I've ever had before. We started lying side by side on the bed simply necking like teenagers—the same long soft erotic kisses as before, but now they went on much longer and our bodies were tangled, breasts pressing and rubbing, legs twisted together with thighs rubbing against pussies, hands roaming and caressing body parts here and there or sometimes just interlocked like we were walking down the street. But there was no urgency or rush to it. It went on and on, with neither of us seeking to escalate it to a more intense level.