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More Like Him |
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By Margo Perry
In the last few days, I’d endured a nasty bout of the flu and photos of my husband’s ongoing infidelity. I wanted revenge, served on a platter equal to the erotic pleasures he’d enjoyed. I’d planned carefully. It was time to go.
I smoothed my hand over my flat belly and turned sideways to examine the contours of my lifted breasts. My tight ass clung to the fire engine red material of my dress. I touched up my matching lipstick and put on strappy high heeled sandals. I looked like a fierce woman, on the prowl. I didn’t recognize myself.
I ran my fingers through my short cropped hair. Gone was the pony-tailed, volunteering, exercising, secure judge’s wife. This woman was transitioning from the illusion of a monogamous marriage to the reality of the faithless, open partnership Nigel had surreptitiously introduced and established. It was hard; being insane and calling it normal.
But it was a done deal. Now, my total focus had to be on re-establishing equality and fairness in my marriage. That would take an act of revenge, a lesson that would teach my husband all he needed to learn. Being Nigel’s fantasy, all tits and ass, far from the demure wife that he required was what I required. And I was still feeling angry and disrespected enough to be determined to have a ball.
I worded my text carefully: Carl, I need some legal advice. I’ll be at my husband’s office at seven. Let’s meet there.
I imagined Carl’s confusion at this communication taking such a casual turn after our lunch. Before we’d left the restaurant, my girlfriend, Sandy, had shaken his hand and thanked him for lunch. I’d hugged him, insinuated my body against his until his cock had grown impressively and deliciously hard. I’d pushed my pussy against it, until I was wet with horniness, until he’d gasped hot air across my cheek. I’d finally broken the hug, but not before both bodies admitted to wanting to fuck each other’s brains out. I couldn’t wait to feel him that way again.
His reply came almost immediately: Just going into last meeting. I’ll be there.
I checked the digital camera and called to make sure that Nigel had left his office for the day, before heading for my car and the short drive into the city.
“You just missed the judge,” said the security guard.
“I know,” I said smiling, as I unbuttoned my coat and watched his attention shift involuntarily to the tits panting out of the scoop in my dress. He chuckled as I bent over slowly to sign his log. “I’m expecting a lawyer, Carl Marley, at seven. Please send him up.”
“Will do,” he said.
He followed me to the private elevator, but paused before sending me up. In that instant, a sympathy, a softness about his eyes told me that he knew all about the judge and his secretary. I also knew how much he wanted to feel my tit flesh, stick his fingers between my legs and then fuck me. I smiled, gazing into old brown eyes, damp with longing, and it made me feel good. It gave me confidence in my role. I needed to see that same hunger on Carl’s face.
In my husband’s office, I set the camera discretely on a bookshelf. I turned it on and moved around the office. I checked. The perspective was perfect, picture crisp. I rewound and reset.
For a moment, I considered telling Carl that I intended to record our proceedings, but decided against it. I’d protect him and his career, but I couldn’t risk him refusing to play his part.
Security called at 6:58 PM to tell me that he’d just delivered Carl to the elevator. I turned on the camera and walked to the huge mahogany double doors to greet him. I opened and left the doors ajar, leaving no chance for hall security to immortalize me in this outfit, in these hallowed halls.
For a moment, the weight of what I’d planned struck me and my heart began to race. Suppose Nigel came back to the office? Suppose I couldn’t seduce Carl? What If Carl realized that I was filming him? Fear was approaching. I took a deep breath and focussed on Nigel’s infidelity, on the fact that he was committed to a weekend away with another woman. Anger incinerated fear and my resolve to succeed in my plan deepened.
I felt centered again, ready to step onstage. Soon, I heard the elevator, and within seconds Carl knocked gently, before walking in. I could feel his eyes measuring me as I closed the doors behind him. It was time to perform my way into a new reality, assume a different character and make different choices. I looked at Carl, felt his presence. He caught my eye and wouldn’t let go. He wasn’t a man to be toyed with.
He offered me his hand, a hand so soft and firm that it made my knees weak. I was horny and fascinated by this sepia man with his shoulder length locks and cat grey eyes, this man who moved like a panther and filled the office with dormant, close to the surface, unadulterated lust.
You’d better be careful with this one.
“Your text mentioned legal advice?”
He was staring deeply into my eyes, demanding straightforwardness, honest emotion. He was taking control. I had to take it back.
Don`t forget camera angles!
“Please,” I said, gesturing to an armchair in front of the desk. I looked up at him and then down, as he sat. I watched him squirm as I crossed my legs slowly, giving him a glimpse of thigh and possibility. “I want to be certain of the legal status of my marriage.”
He looked concerned as I recalled the conversation during which Nigel insisted that our marriage be monogamous, but amused by the time I exposed my husband’s infidelity.
“Are you thinking divorce?” he asked. “I don’t think the firm would approve my representing any interest against the judge’s”
“No, not divorce, but he’s set me free to love others. Our contract has been substantially altered, wouldn’t you agree?”
Carl laughed out loud, throwing his head back, and slapping his forehead with his hand.
Humour wasn’t sparking the tone I needed. I uncrossed my legs, letting them dangle childishly from the desk. I put both hands on the desk and leaned forward, exaggerating the size, offering my breasts, the sex between my open swinging legs. One tear ran down my cheek. I offered all that for his interpretation.
Carl jumped up. His hand felt good behind my head, pulling me into his hard middle. He teased my jaw line with a finger, before tilting my face toward his juicy lips and the pink tongue that was deliberately outlining them. My stomach quivered with excitement and all movement slowed.
His kiss stole my mind and claimed my body. His tongue invaded stealthily, surprising my teeth, the flesh inside my cheek. His tongue danced with mine, a tango for sure, a prelude to carnal knowledge. He stopped kissing me and pulled away, his eyes smouldering, a perfect camera shot.
I stood up and slid into his arms, pressing my tits, my pelvis into him. We began kissing again, this time adventuring further afield. I felt his warm tongue in my ear, fucking my ear. I nibbled and tongued his neck. He grasped my ass, pulling me to him, grinding his cock into my pussy.
“You’re a dangerous woman,” he purred in my ear.
“And you’re a delicious, gorgeous man,” I said. “We make a lovely twosome.” I pressed my cheek against his. “Say cheese!” I instructed, holding my hand aloft, feigning snapping a selfie.
He laughed. “I can’t imagine anybody foolish enough to take pictures of their own indiscretions.”
We both laughed; me, a little too loudly.
“I have a condo not too far from here. Would you like to go home with me?”
“Nigel is hosting a poker game with the boys. I have to go home and arrange a few things.”
“That’s really too bad,” he said.
“I know,” I said, pulling his ass into me. “More,” I said, contracting my pussy against his thigh, releasing and contracting again; using his thigh for my clit’s pleasure. “Can you feel how wet I am? Can you feel how much I want you?”
“And can you feel this?” he asked, grabbing my hand and rubbing it over his long thick cock.”
Perfect. Go for your second shot.
I didn’t need the voice in my head. I knew what I wanted to do to that cock. The fact that I wanted the shots for Nigel displeasure seemed secondary. I pushed Carl toward his chair, fumbling with his zipper all the while.
“Sit and offer me your prize.”
He freed himself and sat. His impressive cock stood at attention and I dropped to my knees, between his, to enjoy it. I took it whole in my mouth, bathed it in the wet warmth of the cavern. I licked up and down and around, while stroking up slowly. I loved his groans and wiggles. I improvised. I applied light and then heavy pressure, fast and then slow strokes. I heard the gasp of heightened arousal.
“I love you cock,” I said, and I meant it.
“And that’s what you’re going to get,” he said, stopping me, helping me to my feet.
He coaxed me out of my soaked panties and wiped them across his face, before tossing them onto the desk. He slipped on a condom and bent me over the desk before taking position behind me. The camera could see and I could feel his fingers reaching around me, finding my hard knob of a clit. He stroked and teased it until I was near orgasm.
This would drive Nigel insane.
“Fuck me, Carl. I need you to fuck me.”
I was so wet that I could take his girth, enjoy the feeling of his filling me. As he began to pump, his fingers found my nipple and began to squeeze and pinch. Erotic currents fuelled my body. I’d never felt so sexually alive and free. I began to push against him. Slow and easy. Hard and fast. He matched me and then took over.
“I’m going to come inside you. Hard and you’re going to feel it. You’re going to come with me.
He fucked me so good and hard. His fingers were on my clit, on my nipples, slapping my ass. Carl was everywhere taking me, fucking me, owning me. And I groaned and gasped and gave and took.
“Are you ready?”
“Yeeeeeees,” I cried.
We came together and then slumped over the desk, spent.
He straightened up and helped me up before enfolding me in his arms. I was surprised to feel so satisfied, so safe and sound. Nigel had somehow been delegated to the peanut gallery of my mind.
I offered Carl the bathroom first and set the camera to create a file that would be compatible and ready for the making of a DVD.
“Thanks you so much for coming. I really enjoy …”
He cut me off. “Not so fast, young lady. I haven’t half finished with you yet. Go home and do what you have to do. When the poker game starts, come out of your house. I’ll be waiting.”
As soon as he spoke, I knew that I wanted more of him. “Suppose I text you when I’m ready,” I suggested.
“Works for me,” he said, kissing my cheek.
I called down to security. “My appointment is leaving. Please send the elevator up for him and then for me. Thanks.”
My drive home was uneventful. I knew from the cars parked in and around that the contingent had arrived. I set up my camera to my computer and had just completed the DVD when Marjorie arrived.
“I’d like you to take this film to the screening room and put this on top of the pile that the judge plans to screen tonight.
“I’ll do that right now,” she said, taking it into her hands as though it were sacred.
I texted Carl: You can come now.
He texted back: I’ve ordered us some food. I’ll be on my way as soon as it gets here.
I texted back: Good. I didn’t realize it, but I’m starved. Give me your address. I’ll call a cab.
You sure?
I’m sure.
555 Shepherd’s end.
Go it.
I suddenly felt like a schoolgirl. I wanted to spend more time with Carl. I wanted to get to know him. My marriage had lost its substance. It was a smoke ring rising, threatening to dissolve.
I called for a cab, but suddenly felt sorry for Carl. I imagined his viewing that tape in front of the other judges and attorneys. I imagined his total loss of face and my punishment seemed suddenly cruel and unusual.
I rushed down to the game room. Marjorie was serving drinks. When I appeared in my red dress and new haircut, the whole room stopped for a second and then exploded with greeting, salutations and compliments about my appearance. Nigel looked shocked and then glowed in the hail of compliments.
“I must steal my husband away for a few minutes.”
“Lucky him,” one of the lawyers shouted.
Once inside the screening room, I shut the door.
“I want you to put up your first choice.”
“Why? It’s nothing you’d be interested in.”
“You’ll be glad, I insisted. Just look.”
It wasn’t long. I’d edited it down to the nitty-gritty. Nigel’s face was a kaleidoscope of emotions that ran an unruly gamut, from anger and disgust, to resignation and fear, and through everything in between.
“Enjoy your evening and your weekend. We’ll have a good talk when you get back.”
“I’m not going anywhere. We need to …”
I cut him off. “Go. Your staying won’t help or change anything. At least now you can go and enjoy yourself without feeling like you’re alone in your open marriage.”
“I’ll tell everybody to go home. The film’s been altered. It’s not what you think! Carl is going to pay …”
“Carl is going to pay for nothing, unless you want the whole world to see you in your chambers being sucked off by your secretary. Let’s not make this any nastier than it has to be.”
Nigel was crying softly, as I left by the back door and hurried out to my cab. I had no use for this weeping man whose efforts at denial had been so pathetic. I wanted more youth, more hope, more Carl.
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