FICTION / HOTWIFE /CUCKOLD
I’m Not Your Type
After a woman makes him a sinfully wicked offer in a bar, he discovers the truth about her adulterous ways
This was after work. He was sitting in a bar downtown, minding his own business, maybe even half-watching the game on the TV screen up in the corner over by the entrance to the restrooms.
He was startled by a tap on his shoulder, and then a woman popped herself down on the stool beside him.
‘You look like you could do with a seriously good blow job,’ she said.
Johnny nearly spat out his beer — in fact, he nearly choked himself just to avoid spraying Budweiser all over the place. ‘I’m sorry?’ He said, turning to her, eyebrows raised.
‘I said…’
‘I heard what you said,’ he laughed.
‘Well then,’ she smiled, and put a hand delicately on his shoulder. ‘You wanna go somewhere…’
In all honesty, he did find her attractive. She really had beautiful eyes, a warm smile and a very alluring figure in that little dress. But it was one of those too-good-to-be-true situations, like when you get an email from a Nigerian prince asking you to hold onto $5 million for him until he can get to the States, whereupon he’d give you half of it for being so helpful — if only you give him your bank account details.
He didn’t want to ask her if she was a hooker.
So he said, ‘You’re not my type.’
She gave him a dry smile. ‘Because I’m not a skinny little white girl?’
If he hadn’t had a couple of beers inside him already, he might have reacted to that. But he didn’t. He only shook his head casually, grinned, and said, ‘No, because you walked right up to me, in the middle of a bar, and asked me if I wanted a blow job.’
She laughed. He liked it when she laughed.
‘I didn’t ask you if you wanted a blow job. I said you look like you could do with one.’
‘Whereupon,’ he said, ‘You asked if I wanted to ‘go somewhere’.’
She shrugged. ‘Maybe I just want that seat.’
The bartender came, and she asked for a Cosmopolitan, and then the guy made it for her, right in front of them. Johnny concentrated on his drink, thinking she might just go away of her own accord. Of course, he was kind of intrigued by now, but he thought she’d probably try her luck elsewhere.
He could smell her perfume. It made him imagine sipping a sweet bourbon by the beach, the waves quietly lapping against the shore as the sun went down.
Johnny couldn’t conceive of ever being able to just walk up to someone and make a comment about oral sex. If she wasn’t going to go away of her own accord, he felt certain she would get bored of his company very soon, and then drift away to murmur sweet obscenities to somebody else. But he hadn’t tried to hoodwink her into thinking he was some kind of party dude.
She sipped her drink, once it was placed in front of her. Then she turned to him again. ‘So what is your type?’ she asked, then before he could answer her, she said, ‘A sweet little Barbie doll, wouldn’t say boo to a goose?’
It was a good question. What was his type? He’d dated plenty of women in his time, and most of them had been disasters.
‘I don’t play with dolls,’ he said, sipping his beer, feeling his ears burn.
‘But you do like a girl to know her place,’ she smiled. He liked her smile. He didn’t like her insinuation. And yet, most of the women he’d dated had been on the demure side. And none of those relationships had gone anywhere.
‘If you must know… I don’t go for girls with tattoos.’
‘Girls?’
‘Women.’
She sipped her drink. Nodded. Looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. ‘Maybe I could cover them up with something. A costume? Something real sexy.’
She leaned over the bar toward him, and gave him a stunning view down her dress. There was a little heart-shaped tattoo on one of her breasts. He felt like he was being drawn in, put in a trance by her physicality. She had wonderfully smooth skin, and her poise, her scent, her presence was just bewitching.
After a moment or two of letting him stare, she suddenly sat up straight again.
‘Well, maybe I’m not your type. Maybe I’m that guy’s type,’ she said, flicking her eyes to the guy sitting a little way down the bar. ‘You think I could get him?’
Johnny tried to subtly twist in his seat, to get more of a glimpse of the guy without making it look as though he was being nosy. He put his elbows on the bar and rubbed his temples as though he was getting a headache, and under the cover of his hands, stretched his eyes to the left.
‘He doesn’t look like he could afford you,’ he said, taking in the guy’s faded blue jeans, his crumpled plaid shirt, the oil-stained Mets cap.
She laughed and drained her shot glass. ‘I don’t charge money. I just like giving blow jobs to hot guys.’
She got up off her bar stool and Johnny found himself unexpectedly breathless, his heart rate soaring. What was she doing?
He watched her walk slowly around him, brushing herself against him like a kitty cat marking its territory. Then she slowly waltzed over to the guy in the plaid shirt, and leaned back against the bar beside him. It seemed easy for her to strike up a conversation.
Johnny felt his heart really pounding now. Was he being a fool, passing up her offer?
It might never happen again.
When did a woman as attractive as her simply walk up to guys in a bar like that, and offer them oral sex?
He was sweating now. He could hear ticking in his ears. She was laughing with Mr Plaid Shirt now, flirty. Trailing a finger down her chest to tempt his eyes down to her cleavage.
Was she really going to just come straight out and offer him a blow job?
That’s what she’d done with Johnny.
He watched, worried that the guy wasn’t immediately sending her off on her way. He was smiling back at her. He looked interested, definitely interested. Was he going to buy her a drink? Johnny wanted to stop her, call her back. He couldn’t believe he was feeling that way.
He was erect, for Heaven’s sake.
Was he really considering the possibility of an illicit liaison with a stranger? God. He was married.
It was such a rush, though. He felt short of breath, it was such a rush. So wrong, so forbidden. So shameful. What would Catherine think if he stopped her, called her back, and suggested they go out into the parking lot so that she could do whatever she wanted with his cock?
Oral sex — was that cheating?
He couldn’t believe he was actually —
Then Mr Plaid Shirt stood up. He put a couple of bills on the bar, and then Ms Not My Type was up too, linking her arm in his, glancing over her shoulder at Johnny to make sure he noticed her accompanying that guy over toward the back door of the place.
Oh Jesus. She’s going with him already? She took ages trying to persuade me. And she just popped the question to him, and he’s just going right out with her?
Johnny felt stupid. He blushed, for God’s sake, even though he wasn’t with anybody. His heart was threatening some kind of seizure, he couldn’t breathe.
Meditation, that was the key. Deep breaths. One, two, three, and so on.
He sipped his drink.
He fiddled with the ring on the third finger of his left hand.
He ordered another drink. Two more drinks.
And a third.
‘Well, that was nice.’
He jumped at the sound of her voice. She was sitting there on the stool beside him again, he could hardly believe it. She looked… how would he describe it? Flushed, certainly. Ruffled, perhaps. Her lipstick was a little smeared, not that you’d notice from far away.
‘Did you really — ?’ He asked. He was beyond presenting a cool Bogart-esque exterior by now.
‘Uh-huh,’ she said, drawing a fingertip along her broad smile like she was cleaning up after an extravagant dinner. ‘And let me tell you, it was a lot of fun…’
‘And he paid up?’
She grinned, laughed. ‘I told you… I don’t do it for the money…’
Why was it so thrilling that she liked sucking stranger’s cocks just for the sake of it? Johnny felt his hardness pushing at his tight pants, and had to adjust his position on the stool to keep it from outright hurting.
‘Is this something you do a lot?’ he asked her.
‘Oh yes. When I can. When my husband’s out of town.’
Was it shocking, that she was married?
Shocking, and exhilarating.
‘You cheat on him?’
He saw her glance around the room, and wondered if she was searching for someone else to take out back for some fun in the parking lot. But then she flashed him a sly look and slipped a hand between her trim thighs, her fingers curling under the hem of her oh-so-short dress.
‘Mmm…’ she moaned quietly, her wicked eyes fixed on his. ‘It makes me so wet.’
Johnny smiled, hiding his amazement. She was keeping her hand down there. If you gave it a quick look, from a distance, it might seem like a beautiful woman gripping the stool between her thighs, so that she didn’t slip off it. But she was touching herself. Right in the middle of the bar.
He shivered with concealed lust as she gazed into his eyes and stroked her pussy in front of him.
‘You wanna try?’ she asked him quietly.
He caught his breath as she took her hand out from between her legs, and then held it up in front of him, as though offering him a sip of her cocktail.
What the hell?
She had that devilish glint in her eyes again. ‘Nobody’s gonna know,’ she said, in barely more than a whisper.
He glanced around this time, though he was checking the coast was clear. The place was fairly empty now. It wasn’t like it was the weekend.
Then his eyes returned to hers, and he reached out to take her hand, to put the tip of her middle finger gently in his mouth.
He could smell her arousal, as well as taste it. Well, weren’t those two senses connected? He breathed in as he sucked on her finger, and his chest filled with her spicy scent while his taste buds tingled with the tangy saltiness of her intimate flavor.
‘You like the taste of a cheating wife?’ she asked him. ‘We could go somewhere. You could try some more.’
Johnny withdrew her finger from his lips, and held up his own hand, signaling the silver wedding ring.
‘It’s not really cheating, is it? Oral sex?’
He chuckled. ‘In which case, you’re not a cheating wife, are you?’
She grinned. ‘Who says I only gave him a blow job?’
Johnny stifled a gasp.
Had she really just let that guy fuck her?
Johny glanced around again. Then he slipped off his bar stool, and stood up.
‘Let’s go,’ he said.
She smirked, and took his hand. He didn’t look back as she led him to the back door, and they stepped out into the cold darkness of the parking lot.
He was trembling, though not from the cold.
‘You really did it with him?’ he asked her.
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Where?’
She flicked her eyes, and led him around the corner, into a little patch of shade out of immediate danger of anyone else emerging from the bar to catch what they were doing.
‘You really sucked his cock?’ he said, pulling her to him.
‘I did.’
He kissed her mouth. She kissed him back, slipped in her tongue a little. He could taste something more than just the cocktail she’d been drinking before she’d taken Mr Plaid Shirt outside. Had she really done that? Such a thrill to kiss her. Just breathtaking.
‘Mmm…’ she moaned, and he felt her hand at his crotch, pressing against the bulge in his pants.
When he came up for air, he asked her, ‘You really fucked him?’
She gazed into his eyes, and said, ‘Oh, yes. I couldn’t stop myself.’
He gasped, and this time couldn’t conceal his surprise. ‘We’ve never… you never…’
She rubbed his hard-on through his pants, and said calmly, ‘I thought it might be a nice surprise for you.’
His hand slipped up under her dress, his fingers finding their way between her smoldering-hot thighs to the patch of tight little curls. She wasn’t just damp, she was soaking wet down there.
‘Where are your panties?’
She shrugged. ‘He wanted them.’
Johnny looked at her all wide-eyed and open mouthed.
‘Did you use protection?’
Another shrug. ‘He was only inside me a moment or two. He finished off in my mouth.’
She kissed him again, and he couldn’t help but respond, sucking on her lips, toying with her tongue, reveling in the strangeness of exploring her mouth after she’d been with another man.
‘Catherine,’ he breathed at last. ‘You have to be more careful next time.’
She nodded. ‘I will. I wasn’t expecting to… to take it so far tonight…’
He pecked her on the lips briefly, to forgive her.
Then he dropped slowly into a crouch in front of her, pushed up her dress a little more, and dipped his head in between her thighs, to sample the flavor of his adulterous wife from the source.
‘Oh honey…’ she moaned as he lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, and clamped his eager mouth against her dripping wet, freshly-fucked pussy.
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