Julie Ch. 04byKKHowling©
Julie left smiling, her body still floating. And if she was a little disappointed about her oral performance, at least she gave him her mouth to use and he used it. She had been there for his pleasure and that was what made it hot.
It wasn't like she was some kind of blow job queen or something. By her own admission, it was something that she never really considered her forte. Not that she didn't put effort into it. She had just never been with men who had high expectations in that category, so why would she have developed any... special skills?
These thoughts continued to nag at her as she drove home, slowly eroding the high she had been feeling. Julie was aware of the irony of the situation. She should have been feeling bad because she just had sex with another man. Not because she was worried she hadn't sucked that other man's cock well enough.
It wasn't that she didn't care what she had done, she realized. If she had had sex with someone more like Gary, who made her feel like Gary did, it would have been different. What Julie had experienced tonight was something off-the-charts-beyond anything she had ever known. Trying to put it in terms of her relationship with her husband was just not possible. There was too much disparity in sex with Gary versus tonight.
So what had she done wrong? Had her teeth been scraping his shaft? Maybe she should have used her hands to caress his balls while she sucked? Maybe she should have done more to turn him on, like tell him how much she wanted him in her mouth, how much she wanted him to cum in her mouth? Maybe she just couldn't take him deep enough?
Or maybe he just hadn't had enough time to recover from the sex, Julie reminded herself. That girl in his car hadn't fucked him first and then tried to suck him off. Maybe that's all it was.
And it wasn't like any of that mattered now, did it? It wasn't like she was going to see him again, was she? Certainly it was possible that in the course of doing business with her company that he would come here again. Or she might go out there. But....
But what? Would anything come of it? Greg had already had Julie. Would he want her again? Maybe, but not necessarily. Thinking back, Julie wondered if she had even been a decent fuck, let alone a great one. She supposed had been good, sure. But in hindsight, wasn't there so much more she could have done? There was no denying that Greg brought out a desire in her to be wild and slutty... and that was the best she could do? At the height of her sluttiness?
And then the blow job... how had she done so badly that he had to finish by jerking off? She wished now she hadn't abandoned her efforts to take him down her throat. Of course, throwing up in his lap wouldn't have helped her cause either, she thought.
Even as she turned in to her own neighborhood, Julie's thoughts revolved around a second chance with Greg; an opportunity to redeem herself. Sucking his cock again, even if nothing else. Shouldn't she be remorseful now, mere blocks from her home? From her husband, who was probably lying in bed waiting for her?
Why did she care so much about Greg's opinion of her in bed? On her knees? Julie knew going into this that she was going to be just another notch in his belt. For all she knew, he was at the hotel bar convincing blondie to come up to his room.
But the idea that she was just another less-than-memorable conquest for him pushed a button in her. She wasn't accustomed to being part of the herd--one of the many, the mediocre. She was used to being a standout. In school, in her career, in everything. If Greg had to choose between her and the woman who sucked him off in his car, or the bleach blonde bar maid, would he take Julie? She didn't think so. And that thought bothered her more than anything else. She was nobody's second choice.
As she pulled into her driveway, Julie realized just how worked up she had gotten herself over this. Why? Did she really think she would sleep with Greg again? Part of her brain was saying, of course not! It was a momentary slip, nothing that would ever happen again. The other side of her brain was thinking that she had just had the most incredible sex, better than she had ever imagined. If she had another chance, how could turn it down?
It was a strange mix of emotions. Confusing, to say the least. She should be feeling awful and guilt-ridden over this adulterous evening. Or, if not, at least feeling great because she had just received the fucking of a lifetime would be understandable. To feel bad because she hadn't been a good enough cheater was a little disorienting. Especially considering how little she must have meant to Greg. Just another—conveniently married—piece of ass.
How could a guy like that get under her skin?
Julie crawled into bed next to Gary, still conflicted and angry at herself for being so. He automatically rolled toward her and embraced her. He gave her a soft kiss in the darkness.
"How'd it go?" he asked softly.
"Celebration dinner is on," Julie replied, trying to infuse a little enthusiasm in her voice.
"Really? That's great!"
"Yeah, he's going to recommend us... and me. I guess it may take a couple of weeks, but it's a done deal." Even as she spoke, Julie realized that she had never seen Greg's report. The very reason she had gone up to his room in the first place. Well, at least the excuse she had used.
Had she known? Even as they left the bar together? Hadn't she sensed the possibilities? The sexual charge?
Of course she had forgotten about the report. It was never really the reason she went up there. She had gone up there so that cocky, arrogant bastard could show her why he was so cocky and arrogant. And he had.
Even as she kissed Gary good night and rolled over to go to sleep, all she could think about was Greg. And his cock.
The next morning when Julie awoke, she was surprised to find how sore she was. Not just her pussy, though that was certainly part of it. But her legs, her back and other muscles scattered over her body. It occurred to her that she really didn't do much when she and Gary had sex. Once in a while she would spend a few minutes on top, but nothing like last night with Greg. Most of the time she just laid on her back and let Gary do his thing.
She got out of bed gingerly, glad that Gary had gotten up before her and wasn't around to see the way she was moving. How the hell could she have explained that?
After a hot shower, Julie felt better, but she still had to be careful when she walked, not to show any signs of the soreness between her legs. That gratifying soreness that came from being pounded so hard with a big cock.
She was vaguely concerned that she still felt so little remorse for her actions. She did love Gary, didn't she? Of course she did. So how could she be so ambivalent about something that would crush him? Something that she did. Knowing the consequences. And might even do again!
It made no sense. Even as she kissed him goodbye and left for work, there was nothing.
More than anything, Julie was still hung up on the fact that Greg probably thought of her as a mediocre fuck. And a lousy blow job.
Had that Barbie Doll bar maid gone up to Greg's room last night? Had she sucked his cock? Julie bet if she had, Greg wouldn't have had to finish the job for her. Those puffy pink lips of hers had probably been wrapped around plenty of cocks. She was probably quite the talented cocksucker. Quite likely out of Julie's league anyway.
Why did that bother Julie so much? Certainly, if she had ever actually wanted to be a good cocksucker, she could be. No, Julie chided herself. She was a good cocksucker. Or, she was good at pleasing her man. That was a lot different than being good at pleasing all men, like some kind of wanton cocksucking slut. And if that's what Barbie was, why did Julie care? Wasn't that beneath her?
Well, it was, she thought with a dash of bitterness. Until last night.
Her phone rang, jarring her from her thoughts.
"Hey." It was Greg.
"Uh, hi," Julie didn't know what to say. It was weird that she didn't know how familiar to be.
"Did you forget something last night?" Julie immediately thought about her clothes, her purse... no, she had everything.
"Um, I don't think so," she replied, but didn't sound like she was very sure of it.
"The report?" Greg asked. "The reason you came to the hotel?"
"Oh, right!" She felt incredibly foolish. He was probably loving that.
"Well, I still want you to see it, but I'm already at the airport. So here's what I can do," he paused and Julie found she was holding her breath. Why did she assume that he had some trick up his sleeve? And if he did, wasn't she going to play right along anyway? "I can't send this right to you, but I'm willing to send part of it--the part that you need to see--from my personal email account to your personal email account. With the understanding, of course, that you not circulate it. You can tell people that need to know, but no paper trail, okay?"
It sounded reasonable. Julie would have to give him her personal email address, but... didn't she want him to have it anyway?
"That works for me," she said and proceeded to give him the address.
"Great. I'll send it over in a few minutes."
"Okay. Thanks, Greg." Then, not sure why she did, she added, "So, were they real?"
"Her tits, Greg. Were they real?" Greg laughed. Surely, he knew that Julie was talking about the bar maid, that she was implying he had fucked her last night after all.
"I'll talk to you in a week or two," he replied and hung up before Julie could say anything more. He hadn't answered. What did that mean? And why did she even care?
When Julie got to work, she immediately checked her personal email account. There were several emails in there, some spam, some from friends. The most recently received one was from "sltfkr1000." Julie blinked as she looked at the address. Who the hell would have a screen name so crude?
A slut fucker... DUH!
Hadn't she loved the feeling of being slutty? And being fucked by a man who knew what to do with a slut? She might try to spin things differently in the cold light of day, but that was what it all came down to: she had been a slut and he had fucked her.
Was she resentful that he was, in a way, calling her a slut now? No, she didn't think so. It was just a little startling to see it in writing. She couldn't--and didn't want to--argue the slut label. In the context of the hotel room, it had actually been welcome. Here in the real world, well... it was somewhat out of place. That didn't mean it was any less accurate. But it clearly could not be a part of her professional life.
It was a first for Julie, the need to have a secret life. It made her feel a bit weird, like she wasn't who she thought she was. Who everyone else thought she was. It wasn't necessarily a bad feeling. Julie still had no real sense of regret or pangs of guilt. Just a need to wall that experience off from the rest of her life.
She read through the excerpt from Greg's report. It wasn't anything she didn't already know about, but it was a useful tool to identify and address the biggest issues that resulted from his audit. She saved the email in her personal account, then clicked the "reply" button.
"Thanks for the info. Nice email address."
She wasn't sure about the address comment. It was clearly a crossing of the boundary between her new, secret life and her old one. She clicked send before she could reconsider.
It didn't take long for Greg to reply.
"You're welcome. It's appropriate... don't you agree? ;)" The wink actually made her smile. It was a reminder, after all, that he was a man who could wink at one woman while another was sucking his cock. She thought for a moment, trying to come up with a suitable comeback.
"No it's not... b/c I wasn't before last night."
Again, she had to hurry and hit send before she changed her mind. The implication was clear enough: she wasn't a slut before last night, but she was now. Isn't that what she wanted him to know? That now she was? That he could have her again, if he wished?
Julie was conflicted on the issue. Or maybe she wasn't. Maybe her conflict was more about wanting him again without knowing if he wanted her. There was no guilt. At least not yet. And other than the fear of getting caught, what else would hold her back?
A new email appeared in her in box. It was from Greg.
"And now you are?"
Was she? No. Well, yes and no. One night didn't make her a slut, obviously. But that one night had opened her eyes. She had always been a woman who wanted respect and consideration from a man. Maybe she was even a little selfish in bed sometimes, enjoying being pampered more than doing the pampering.
But last night had nothing to do with respect. Greg wasn't inconsiderate in bed, but that wasn't necessarily because he was concerned about Julie's pleasure. He was just a great fuck. That's what gave him the confidence: having that big dick and knowing how to use it. That confidence, in turn, gave him that take-charge attitude that made Julie act like a slut for him.
That's what it was really, wasn't it? Julie acting like a slut? Greg gave her a chance to behave in a way that no previous lover had, and she had responded to it. Would he have the same effect on her if she was suddenly alone with him again? She wasn't sure.
How much of last night was acting? How much was her having an opportunity to experiment? How much of it was something that was inside of her all along, waiting to be released?
She didn't believe it was something hardwired in her head or body. If it was, then it was only a matter of time before Greg or some other bad boy came along and she did it again. While she admitted to herself that she might sleep with Greg again, Julie didn't see herself leaping into the sack with someone else to satisfy some newly discovered slutty urges.
"And now you are?"
She re-read Greg's email. She still wasn't sure what the answer was. She knew how thrilling it had been to be fucked like a slut. But did that make her one?
"Not sure..... yet"
She emailed back to him. Then she shut down her email. She was a little surprised by her own answer. She was pretty much telling him that she would fuck him again; that she wanted to fuck him again, really. A man like Greg didn't need that kind of help. If he wanted to get in her pants, he could do it anyway, as he had so effectively demonstrated. An email like that, well.... she might as well tell him she was on her back naked with her legs up in the air!
She smiled at the thought.
That night, Julie came home to another delicious aroma. As she walked through the door and caught a whiff of Gary's cooking, she remembered that tonight was their rescheduled "celebration" dinner. The thought twisted Julie's gut.
How had she forgotten? Hadn't she promised to make it up to him the other night? When he had been so sweet, but she had been so not-in-the-mood? If she hadn't been turned on then, she was even less so now.
For starters, she was still tender and sore from all the hard, deep thrusts of Greg's sizeable cock. Even a more modestly endowed man would hurt her tonight. And that was only the physical part of it.
The emotional part was far more convoluted. How would she be able to have sex with Gary like nothing had happened? Poor trusting Gary! He would probably never suspect her of doing what she had done. But she was worried that there would be some telltale evidence of her indiscretion; by having sex with him, she would somehow give herself away.
But that wasn't the whole story, was it? Sex with Gary wasn't especially appealing to her. Had it really ever been? That thought shook her up pretty badly. She had had orgasms, of course. But were orgasms the only indication as to a woman's satisfaction? Julie realized that her answer to that question might have changed in the last twenty-four hours.
Gary was his usual sweet self all through dinner, though he surely knew that something was wrong. If anything, he tried harder to make things perfect for her. The meal was again fantastic. The wine and the background music were--or, would have been--just right. After dinner, he massaged her legs and feet the way she loved. It was all done so carefully, meticulously to please her that she really wanted to live up to her promise.
But she couldn't will herself to be in the mood. There was simply nothing there. Maybe that was the form her guilt took. Or maybe last night had somehow ruined her relationship--sexually, at least--with Gary.
Julie pushed that thought away. Surely, that wasn't the case. Her reluctance to be intimate with her husband after having an extra-marital affair, well... that was certainly understandable. It didn't mean her marriage had been ruined.
As Gary massaged her legs, Julie told him she felt sick. She had been feeling a little under the weather all day... she must be coming down with something. And Gary, of course, was very understanding.
Why the hell couldn't he at least show his disappointment? He was disappointed, wasn't he?
* * * * *
The weekend was difficult. Julie kept up the pretense of being sick. Gary attended to her with care and compassion and, mercifully, made no effort to get intimate.
Strangely, Julie felt more guilt over that bit of deception than she did about her night with Greg. She kept telling herself that all of this was the backlash of her indiscretion and it would eventually pass.
But how long was she prepared to lie around claiming to be sick?
At one point Saturday afternoon Gary went out to run some errands. Julie listened for his car to pull out of the driveway before getting out of bed and going down the hall to the spare bedroom where they kept their home computer. She quickly logged on to check her email. Sure enough, there was one there from sltfkr1000. She felt her pulse quicken a little as she clicked it.
"Not sure yet? Think about it... long and hard. Still not sure?"
Good looking, big dick and he sent clever emails... no wonder he was so fucking arrogant!
Julie thought about it all right. She thought about just how long and how hard it had been that night. It was at that moment that she realized that she really wanted to fuck him again. Of course she knew that, if he were to pursue her, he could be persuasive... and she could be persuaded. But this was the first time she admitted to herself that she wanted him again.
It was a weird feeling. Weird for her because it was the first time she ever wanted a man in a purely sexual sense. She didn't want to give up her life as it was. Not in the slightest. And she really didn't want any kind of relationship with Greg. That would probably be impossible anyway, given his polyamorous tendencies. She just wanted to be fucked like that again.
And it wasn't just the physical sensations she craved, although his big cock had done things for her that her husband's modest member never could. Julie found that she liked having a man take charge of her, tell her what to do and expect her to do it. She liked how Greg fucked her in any position he desired without asking. He knew how to take control.
Julie could surrender herself, give herself up to him. It was erotic. And slutty. It was at least as important a part of the thrill of having sex with him as his incredible cock was.
Now that she knew she wanted him again... or rather, knew that she wanted to be had by him again, how should she respond to his email? She wanted him to know, but didn't want to seem over-eager. Or worse, desperate.
As she pondered what to say in her response, her mind wandered back to the night she had first seen him at the bar. She had been staring at him even then. He had been right about that. Funny, Julie thought. When he had hit on her that night, he had seemed so insufferably arrogant. He had soo rubbed her the wrong way. But she had been staring. Something in her must have known, even if her brain took a bit longer to figure it out.