tagErotic CouplingsMy Girlfriend's Rival

My Girlfriend's Rival

byen_extase©

Do not read further if you are under the age of eighteen or are otherwise prohibited by law to view sexually explicit material.

Do not reprint this work on any other website, or any medium, without express consent from the author (me!).

Synopsis: A guy is mercilessly teased and seduced by the one girl that his girlfriend envies and fears the most. I hope you enjoy! Comments are always appreciated.




I

When I was twenty, I worked at a really trendy restaurant. It was pretty big: it also functioned as an in-house catering facility for companies and such.

I was lucky enough to have a job there when I was working my way through college. And by lucky I don't really mean that the work was so awesome or the pay so great, though both were fine. What I mean is that the employees were basically made up of two groups. There was the "established" (cooks, management) in their thirties and forties. Then there was the "help", which consisted of college students putting in their time. Of the latter group, I was one of two guys with the rest all female.

To sweeten the deal, the girls ranged from cute to drop-dead gorgeous. Even luckier (for me, at least), was that the other fellow accidentally sliced his hand one day on the job and, for sanitation and convenience, was let go.

For the sake of clarity, I will only describe two of the girls that worked there with me. The first was Jennifer. She was a class-act girl and very pretty. I would say on average among men, she would score an eight, eight and a half outta ten. She would typically turn heads when she walked into the room, but she wasn't the type to openly flaunt her sexuality.

The other girl was Monica. This was one of those girls that makes a man hurt with desire. I'd say for looks, she easily scores a nine. But then you factor in her personality, she shoots off the scale. And by personality I'm not trying to say she's got the soul of an angel to go with her looks. On the contrary, she was a little devil. She had to be the most charismatic and seductive female in town. I mean, this girl just oozed sensuality in everything she did, even when she wasn't trying. And what's worse for all of us, is that she knew it.

Now working with these beauties was a real treat for me. Naturally when I first met Monica, it was lust at first sight. I also realized very quickly that she was out of my league. Shortly thereafter I realized that a man would have to be insane to go with her as she would surely manipulate the best of them to be putty in her hands. Was I friends with her? Sure. Did we flirt from time to time? Yeah. But I never tried anything with her and she returned the favor.

Meanwhile, I did enter into a relationship with Jennifer. We tried to keep it low-key as we didn't want any flak from our co-workers. Eventually everybody found out about it, but it wasn't a big deal because we kept the affection out of the workplace. This, however, is when trouble started brewing.

See, once Monica found out I was seeing somebody, my stock soared in her eyes. Now I was something worthy of being conquered. When I was single, I was no big deal. When I was with another girl? (And such a looking girl at that?) Well then, that sounded like fun to Monica. Here was a girl who liked to break men just because she could. I don't think she was really out to hurt anybody per se, but she was definitely just thinking about her own vanity and pleasure.

So as time goes on, she starts to turn up the heat with me. She flirts with me a lot more, brushes up against me, always finds excuses to be working on something with or near me. At first I don't really make anything of it. I'm just a man, right? I enjoy the attention. But I was naïve enough to think it was no big thing.

My girlfriend Jennifer obviously saw things differently. She saw Monica moving in on her territory and hated it with a passion. She knew Monica was a stone-cold fox. She knew Monica could seduce a dead man to life. So she communicated to me in so many words that she would appreciate it if I didn't let Monica flirt her way around me. I of course tried to joke it off and assure her she was just being paranoid. I never made a move for her before, why would I now when I have you? This put her at ease somewhat, but we both knew deep down she was still uncomfortable with the situation.

That was the state of affairs for awhile. Monica would flirt her best with me; not too over-the-top but enough to flatter and stimulate me. Jennifer would notice and hate it. I would try to play down Monica's advances and show extra interest to Jennifer (especially in front of Monica) to establish that I was a taken man. This, however, proved to be a difficult exercise as Monica did not let up, and Jennifer became colder to me at work to show her displeasure.

I have to admit that, although up to this point I had fantasized about Monica as much as any guy would during my "alone" time, I was otherwise still in control of my wandering thoughts. Now, however, I started thinking about her more. The worst part was after work, when out with my girlfriend, she would bring up the topic. "God, I wish Monica would just lay off you. She thinks she's so hot, flirting with every guy just because she can." Under normal circumstances I would agree in both word and heart with her, thinking that that type of girl was contemptible. But now, even at the mention of Monica's name (and especially when Jennifer said it), I could feel my cock jump and the blood burn in my face.

This was particularly bad at times. Jennifer, in her jealousy, would rant, "Fuck, I wish I looked more like Monica! She's got that hot little body with big tits that every guy drools over." Well, yeah, she was telling the truth. As I said, Jennifer's body was great; but so was Monica's. And hearing her remind me of how fantastic it was definitely did not help the situation. Although I would try to say, "Settle down, you're blowing things out of proportion. I see guys ogling you all the time..." It didn't always work, and I would often betray a sheepish smile at the mention of Monica's hot body. Then she would blurt out, "See! I knew you think she's hot! Why don't you go fuck her if that's all you think about!" and then the night would be ruined as it devolved into a hopeless fight.

Her envy for Monica only served to exacerbate the situation. As they say, we want what we can't have. Well, I already couldn't have Monica, and now I couldn't have her "worse". She became my girlfriend's rival, which only added to her forbidden allure. Jennifer's insecurity and constant bitching about Monica was having the opposite effect of making her seem ever more attractive.

Still, through all this, Jennifer and I did have a good relationship. Besides the "Monica" issue, we got along famously and were a great couple. It is for this reason that we both put up with the growing tension between us. It is also for this reason that I continued to decline Monica's advances (along with the reason that, by this point, I knew she was just trying to conquer me for sport).

I thought I was doing pretty well, all things considered. But one day, things took a turn. I had gone without sex, going on two weeks, due to the back-to-back disasters of Jennifer's period and a follow-up cold. Now I realize this is not that long, but I'd like to remind you that I was a twenty-year old guy, getting it on a regular basis, and working in an environment that was "sexually charged" to say the least. This in itself was not a disaster, but what happened next was.

I had to bring a huge crate of extra dishes down to the storeroom. This was a room down a long winding hall and locked at all times (this detail is important). I was also told that I needed to bring back a few boxes of extra silverware. Carrying the crate in both hands, I backed out through the doorway and into the hall to fulfill the order. At the last minute, Monica chimed in that she would come with me and help bring back the silverware.

My heart both jumped in my throat in joy and sunk in despair. This was the duality of my dealings with Monica. Part of me craved her attention and affection. The other part of me feared it immensely. Lately it was even worse, due to the aforementioned dry spell. And what would a seductress be if she didn't have a sixth sense to notice that kind of thing? You can bet your bottom dollar she turned up the heat on her overtures.

So we're walking down the hall, me lugging this huge crate and her skipping along in front and beside me. She does that half-backwards walk that lets her face me as we go down the hall, forcing me to look at her. I know she's doing this so I check her out, and I know she's moving in that subtle way that is sexy but not flat-out pornographic. I've seen this a lot and I can handle it, although I admit I was getting hard.

Then she cheats. She breathes, "Man it is hot today!" and grabs the bottom of her shirt. She pulls it up and wipes her forehead with it, revealing her long, flat stomach and most of her wonderful tits, resting perfectly in a little bra. She makes sure I got a good, long look before she pulls it back down. I realize I'm still staring and shake my head away. My face goes red with embarrassment and I don't say anything.

"You look flustered too!" she smiles.

We get to the storeroom (the journey seemed to take forever). As I am still holding the crate, I give a glance to her and to the door, silently asking her to unlock and open it. She checks her pockets and gives me a bullshit astonished look, "Oops! I forgot my key. Do you have yours?"

I roll my eyes, "Yeah, in my pocket," and I start to move to put the crate down.

"Don't stress yourself, I'll get it!"

I honestly did not intend for that to happen.

Within a second she is behind me, pressing her body up against my back. Her hands slide into both my pant pockets. I was wearing loose slacks, so she had a lot of room to slip inside. The material was not particularly thick (compared to, say, denim jeans). Feeling her hands on the inside of my thighs with seemingly so thin a barrier was electrifying. I was already hard before, but this was too much. Her body on mine and her hands so close to my cock made me so hard it ached.

Regaining some composure, I gulped, "Th-that's fine. I will get it..."

But it was no use. "Why? I'll get it, relax..."

Her hands continued to feel about in my pockets. I felt her grab the key and thought, good, get out, please. I was beet red with embarrassment. Don't touch my cock, you've had your fun, this isn't right. But my wishes were unanswered. I sensed she let go of the key and, the next thing I knew, felt her right hand stroke against my hard-on through my pants and boxers. "Oh my!" she flirted coyly.

She moved her left hand to the base, between my cock and thigh, and lightly pressed down. This had the effect of both feeling amazing and pushing my hardness up further. That, in turn, gave her better access to stroke it with her right hand. "No wonder you looked so flustered! What has gotten you all worked up?" she feigned innocence.

"M-Monica... Stop. Just take the key, please."

"What's wrong? Am I hurting you?"

"No you're- you're not hurting me... just, come on, cut it out."

"Mmm, but you seem to be enjoying it. Jennifer is a lucky girl to have such big man!"

The mention of my girlfriend made me swallow hard. I was paralyzed. Still holding the crate against my chest with both hands, and with her body to my back, I couldn't just push her away. I probably could have done some maneuver to twist around, take a step away from her, something. But I did nothing. I let her continue, hoping she would be the one to stop, and secretly not knowing if I wanted her to.

"Please," I said, "This is wrong..."

"If it was wrong, then you wouldn't be so excited, would you?"

She was working magic with her hands. A hand job never felt so good in my life, and this girl was doing it through my clothes! I was in some kind of twisted heaven.

"Doesn't Jennifer take care of you? If you were my boyfriend, I would always make sure you were satisfied..."

"No she- I mean yes, I- Damn it, this is wrong..." I was stuttering. Was I trying to tell her that? Was I trying to convince myself?

"You already said that, baby. Mmm... maybe it being wrong is what makes it hot?"

At those words, even more blood surged to my cock. It was pulsing with my heartbeat. Fuck if I was never so turned on in my life. "Ah- shit, I..."

"Oh! You like that? I always thought you were a good, faithful boy. But you want to be bad? Is that what gets you off? Does... Jennifer know this, or is it our little secret?"

My mind was spinning. She was turning me on so bad, and she knew it. I could feel the rush between my legs and I knew I couldn't last much longer. She was going to make me come. For some stupid reason, I told her that, "M-Monica, I'm gonna- Stop, I'm gonna come."

"Yeah, you are. You're so bad. You're gonna let me get you off right here. Your girlfriend is just down the hall, and you're letting me jack you off. I bet she thinks I'm such a slut, but who's giving it up right now?"

She was right. I knew she was right. This was so wrong, I knew it was, and that steamed me up so much worse. She kept stroking me. My breathing quickened and I grunted, "Oh fuck!" And then I came. The first jolt shook me so hard that my knees buckled a little. Monica held on fast, wrapping her arms tighter around my waist and holding me as she continued to pump my cock. I continued to spray cum in my boxers while helplessly clutching the crate.

Eventually I slowed down and regained some composure. Her hard stroking relaxed into a gentle caress as I grew limp. I then felt her hands slip out of my pocket and her body move away from mine. Realizing my eyes were clenched shut from my orgasm, I opened them to see her standing in front of me with a wide, satisfied smile. Holding the key up to her face, she chirped "Got it!"

She unlocked the storeroom door and we went inside. I finally put the crate down on a shelf and leaned on it, hunched over in a state of disbelief. "I can't believe... That was..."

"Wrong?" she seductively interjected.

That snapped me out of my reverie. "Yeah. Yeah, Monica, I mean, why? If Jennifer knew-"

"If she knew what? That her boyfriend let me fondle his cock until he couldn't help himself and blow his load into his pants?"

I was again crimson with both embarrassment and anger.

"Look," she said flatly, "You wanted it." Her face softened, "What's the big deal? You don't have to tell her... and I won't tell her either... as long as you remember one thing."

I blinked in confusion. "Remember what?"

"Remember, I made you come. Now you owe me one."

My eyes popped wide in bewilderment.

She laughed. "Settle down. I don't want it right now. But soon. And when I want it, I think you'll want to give it to me. After all, you wouldn't want to disappoint me, right?" She batted her eyes. "Cause then I might have to tell your little girlfriend what happened here today..."

My chest tightened and I clenched my jaw. What could I say? I was hot with shame. She turned around and picked up one of the boxes of silverware we originally came to get. "Here, hold this" she directed at me, "in front of your... mess."

Dread swelled up inside of me as I realized what she was referring to. I looked down and, of course, my pants were soaked. How the hell was I going to hide this?

"Nobody will notice if you have this in front of you. When we go into the kitchen, I'll grab the dishwasher hose and make like I'm washing something. You stand next to me, then I'll accidentally spray you. Voilà you're clear."

She said all of this so matter-of-factly, like it was everyday conversation. How did she come up with that idea? Was she planning it all along? Did she find herself in these situations often? I thought the idea was a bit far-fetched but I was in no condition to be thinking very clearly anyway, so it sounded like a good enough idea. "Okay."

Grinning as she turned around, she bent over to pick up another box off the floor. She made sure to go slowly and give me a protracted look at her perfect ass. I stared like an idiot, just like she wanted, and actually felt myself start to get hard again. At least I was holding that box which hid it from her. Maybe I can deny her that little bit of satisfaction.

She effortlessly took up a nonchalant position and we started back for the kitchen. Everyone was busy, so nobody really noticed us come back. Before I put the box down, I began to panic. What if she didn't go to the sink? What if she wanted to toy with me and see how I would solve the problem myself? To my relief, she moved straight for the sink and started rinsing out some bowls. I put down the box and tried to casually walk up and reach over, as if I needed something from the shelf overhead.

With a little yelp, she jumped backwards and pretended like I surprised her. Still holding the hose, she deftly turned to me and sprayed my waist and abdomen before turning it off. "God! Sorry, you scared me! Ah, I totally soaked you, crap!"

This caught the attention of the entire kitchen and they looked. "Stop scaring the staff!" one of the chefs said, and everyone had a good laugh. I laughed too, in nervous relief, but quickly stopped when I looked into Monica's eyes to see a very clear "you're welcome" in her eyes.

I was confused. At first I felt gratitude towards her and smiled my thanks. As I walked away to get some towels to try and dry myself off, I realized, why am I thanking her? She put me in this mess in the first place... I was drying myself off, lost in thought, when Jennifer approached me.

"You sure took your time getting that silverware."

I mumbled some bullshit excuse about the storeroom being packed and having to move a bunch of stuff out of the way so we could get what we wanted.

"Uh huh." She wasn't impressed.

The excitement settled down after that. I went back to work, trying to mind my own business. Jennifer avoided me, clearly expressing her irritation. Monica didn't make any attempt to either be near or stay away from me. She acted like nothing unusual had happened. But then again, she could play off anything. The only comment she made in passing, very quietly and subtly, was, "I'm looking forward to next time, when you get me all wet."

I pretended like I didn't hear her. I tried my best to make no change in expression, to just keep doing what I was doing. But I felt my face grow hot and my cock stir. When I looked up at her walking away, she managed to turn and catch me eyeing her. How does she do that? She gave me a wink and a seductive smirk that was gone as quick as it appeared.

That night, back at my place, I was lying on my bed, arguing with Jennifer on the phone. As I knew would happen, she was grilling me about the time in the hallway. Was she flirting with you again? Was she trying to show off? No, Jennifer, nothing happened. Stop overreacting, we just got some silverware, I told you. This cumulated in her fear that, did she try to kiss you?

I actually let out a laugh, "Ridiculous!" I laughed both because it seemed her biggest fear was something so minor, and because what actually happened was so outrageously worse. Eventually she finally dropped the subject, and shortly thereafter the phone call ended.

I let out a deep sigh. What a fucking day. At this point I honestly didn't know what to make of it. The whole ordeal seemed like a dream. How could something like that possibly happen? I played the scenario over and over in my mind. Why did I let it happen? I could have done something, but I didn't. I let her play with me however she wanted.

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