My Girlfriend's Rival

I was absentmindedly playing with myself now. Then I started to think about the things she said. How it was so wrong, and how she was practically mocking Jennifer. My feelings were so jumbled up. That really pissed me off, but I couldn't deny that it had obviously turned me on even more. God, she was so fucking arrogant. I was stroking myself harder then. That fuckin' bitch is so hot and she knows it.

I closed my eyes and pictured her. Everything she did just exuded confidence and sensuality. I imagined her hands on my cock again. This was so wrong. I should be pissed off. I shouldn't be playing it over in my mind, fantasizing about it. Jennifer would be so livid if she knew. God, I'm a mess. I'm so horny. This is wrong.

Then I heard Monica's voice in my head, repeating what she said earlier: maybe it being wrong is what makes it hot?

I grit my teeth and came again for the day. Then I fell asleep.

II

It had been a couple of weeks since my encounter with Monica. When we shared the same shifts at work, I found myself to be a mess. I was constantly anxious, wondering if she was going to bring it up, or worse, call up my "debt" to her. But she didn't. She continued to merely flirt with me and tease me mercilessly.

I became victim to her constantly brushing up against me. When someone may have noticed, she always did something harmless like her hand on the small of my back. Sometimes she would squeeze between me and a counter. When she faced me, she pressed her tits into my chest, staring me dead in the eyes. Other times she had her back to me, and pressed her ass into my cock. Without fail, and despite my reluctance, I would be hard whenever she did it. Once, when I was going down a hall and she coming up it, she blatantly reached out and ran her hand down the front of my pants, grabbing lightly. I stopped dead in my tracks and she cooed, "Does he miss me?" Before I could say anything, her hand would gone and she would continue walking, knowing I was helpless to her wiles.

I tried to tell myself that what had happened those weeks ago was a fluke. She had gotten me off; she knew she could, so I was already a done deal to her. Sure she teased me about it, but that was just because we were around each other. She had had her fun, so she wouldn't need to act on me anymore. I'm not sure how much I actually convinced myself of that though.

I was wracked with guilt over the whole thing. All this time, Jennifer was paranoid that Monica would seduce me. Well, she practically did. On one hand, I hated myself for letting it happen. But I hated more that I couldn't get it out of my mind. I thought about it constantly. I jerked off thinking about it all the time. When Jennifer would start up an argument about Monica, I would become more exacerbated. I even started to blame her, thinking that if she didn't complain so much, maybe Monica wouldn't seem so captivating. I just wanted to shout, "Every time you bring her up, you realize you make me think about her? Is that what you want?" But of course I didn't.

I felt a kind of relief on the days I worked when Monica didn't. I could relax; no need to worry about her trying to rile me up, or worse, make me return her "favor". However, I was also ashamed to admit that I missed her as well. What was my problem? As much as I hated her tantalizations, I found that I craved them when they weren't there.

Not all days were bad though. Sometimes when she wasn't there, she didn't infest my thoughts and things went well. One day in particular was going really nicely. Jennifer and I were working on some things together and, for once, she wasn't avoiding me on the job as she usually does. She was in a good mood and, with Monica absent for the day, downright cheerful. This was the Jennifer that I loved to spend time with. Of course it was that day that Monica had to show up anyway. As if sheknew.

"Hey everybody!" she sang at the doorway into the kitchen. Everyone turned to greet her. Apparently she had some family from out-of-state visiting her and she thought she would bring them to her restaurant to sample the food. She said this all in that enigmatic way she says everything which flattered the chefs and showed her to be such a sweetheart.

I didn't really pay much attention to what she was saying though. As she was a guest today, she was wearing her personal clothes. It was the warmer season, so she wore a loose skirt. It was long enough to avoid being slutty, but short enough (above the knees a bit) to still be very provocative. It showed off her long, smooth, tan legs perfectly, all the way down to an innocuous pair of sandals. She was wearing one of those shirts that show off a bit of cleavage and all of the shoulders, somehow clinging onto her by her arms and breasts. In short, she looked absolutely amazing; somehow managing to carry off this look as not particularly scandalous, perhaps just cute... yet knowing she looked like a goddamn bombshell.

She chatted up the kitchen for a little while longer, not paying me any particular attention, and went back out to rejoin her family. "I bet you liked that look," I heard Jennifer mutter, annoyed. I rolled my eyes and attempted to make her feel foolish, as if she was overreacting. But I knew deep down that I would be stroking myself off to her image in that skirt the next time I had a chance.

Things went on uneventfully for an hour or so after that. I decided to hit up the employee's restroom to take a leak. On my way out to the hall, I noticed Monica introducing her family to her co-workers in the kitchen. Dodged that bullet, I guess.

In the restroom, I let out a deep sigh and tried to clear my head. Maybe I'll just take my time in here, wait a few minutes, and then she will be gone. No need to tempt fate and have Jennifer get pissed off again. I moved to wash my hands and did so very deliberately and slowly, focusing on the water running over my skin. I heard the door open behind me and didn't think anything of it. "So this is where you're hiding!"

Oh shit.

I looked up and saw Monica in the mirror, smiling like a Cheshire cat. She walked up and stood behind me, wrapped her arms around my stomach, and pulled close against me. "You weren't trying toavoidme, were you?" she pouted. The feeling of her pressed up against my back, arms around me, immediately reminded me of our encounter by the storeroom. I swallowed hard.

I tried to be nonchalant: "I think you took the wrong door."

She giggled, "I don't think so. I was looking for you!" She used her arms to turn me so I faced her. Looking me up and down, she smiled even bigger when she saw the tent in my pants. "Nice to see him again!"

I flushed red and shrugged. No witty comeback came to me. I even had a stupid little grin on my face. But that was wiped off my face when, in a little girl's voice, she said, "I'd like to cash in for my prize, sir."

I stuttered. "Um... Your uh- your family is waiting for you..."

"Oh, don't worry about them. Uncle Jim is a freak for food. He will chat up recipes for a half hour before they know what hit them!"

"What do you- I uh- Monica, I can't... I mean, you know, Jennifer..."

Her smile briefly faded from her face, but then returned seductively. "You" she said, pointing her finger at me and poking my chest, "owe me one. And something tells me you didn't forget our littleadventure."

My mind was reeling for excuses. "Well, look, anybody could just walk in here!"

"Aw, that's cute... you're shy!" God, she could be so patronizing. But it still affected me. She grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me into a stall. Shutting and locking the door, she leaned her back against it. "There, now we're all alone!"

I just stared into her eyes. I already felt defeated. What was she going to do to me? What was she going to try and make me do? Part of me thought about pushing her out of the way and storming out of the restroom. But I knew I couldn't do that. For one, she might take it out on me and tell Jennifer everything. Also, deep down, I was trembling in anticipation.

"You know," she said softly, "I saw you staring at my legs when I first came in today. Do you like my skirt?" She ran her hands down the fabric of her skirt and when reaching the bottom, slightly pulled it up to reveal more of her legs.

"Yeah it's uh- it's nice."

"I thought you might like it. I love skirts. I think they're sexy. I have shorter ones at home... maybe I can show them to you sometime! Would you like that?"

I was transfixed, staring at her hands running along her legs. She moved so effortlessly yet drove me to such arousal.

"What, cat got your tongue? Does Jennifer not ever wear skirts for you?"

"She- she wears them sometimes, yeah..."

"Hmm," she mused, "Tell me. Do you like me in a skirt more?"

My heart skipped a bit. The nerve of this bitch to try and play me against my own girlfriend. Yet gazing at her thighs, watching her run her fingers along them, I was stunned to hear myself admit, "Yeah..."

Monica gasped with pleasure. "Oh my god! You are SO bad! I can't believe you actually said that... Wow... That is awful..." She lifted her hands and put them on my shoulders. I looked back up into her eyes. "I liked that." Then she pushed me down and guided me to my knees.

I didn't put up any fight. I kneeled down willingly and placed my hands on her legs, running up her thighs. She pulled up her skirt further and revealed a pair of lacy, light blue panties. "Take them off," she directed. I tentatively grabbed onto them and slowly pulled them down, revealing her beautiful pussy. She wasn't completely shaven; there was a little patch resting above her slit. There weren't even any tan lines. It was perfect. She lifted one foot, then another, letting me completely remove the panties from her legs.

I was breathing hard. She pulled up her skirt more and bunched it up around her waist. Then, leaning against the stall door, she lifted her right leg and wrapped it around my left shoulder. Her right hand held the back of my head and gently guided me to her waiting pussy. I could smell her arousal; she was definitely wet already.

I wrapped my left arm around the leg she rested on me, and ran my right hand along her other leg and cupped her bare ass. Then, closing my eyes, I slowly leaned into her and began to lick delicately along her slit. She gave a soft moan immediately upon my tongue's contact. Her fingers on the back of my head clenched a little, scratching into my neck. This only encouraged me to lap at her with more enthusiasm.

She continued to moan, occasionally trying to stifle little yelps by biting her lower lip. At some point she decided to start talking to me while I worked away on her. "Jesus you're- ah- you're good... Do you eat out your girlfriend like this? No wonder she- oh!- she puts up with you drooling over me all the time! First your thick cock- ah yeah- now a great tongue too- ah fuck!"

Her disparaging mention of Jennifer aggravated me, and I dug my nails into her ass with my right hand. Yet at the same time, it filled me with lust, and I licked and sucked her pussy the best I could. She could sense my reactions.

"Oh baby, you- ah- you like it when I talk about her? God that's so- mmm- sowrong! Eating another slut out while she- ah- she talks about- ohhh!"

I had slapped her ass, out of animalistic heat to both shut her up and spur her on.

"Fuck yeah! You eat pussy so goddamn- ah- so goddamn good! Mmm baby, does she ever talk about me? Tell me!"

I nodded my head yes and mumbledmmm hmminto her pussy.

"Ah- ah! I bet that gets you hard, yeah? Do you have to hide your hard- ah- hard dick when she bitches about me?"

I repeated the affirmative and she pushed my face into her even harder. She was now bucking her hips against me as I licker her like a madman. "Oh god, that's so fucked up! Fuck- ah yes! That's fucking HOT! Jesus I'm gonna- oh yeah! Make me come, yeah!"

She continued to thrust and I could feel the muscles in her thighs trembling as she strained. My jaw was getting tired, but I didn't give a fuck. I was eating her pussy out like my life depended on it. She didn't talk anymore, but just moaned and grunted. Finally her quick breathing stopped as she took a deep breath in, then let out a long low moan as her whole body shook. I pushed my body up against her to help her balance, but continued to give long, fast licks as she came against me. Her pussy, already drenched at this point, was now completely soaked. I felt like my mouth was swimming in her sweet juices. I didn't stop pleasing her as her body relaxed and she calmed down, but I did slow down and give her a more gentle treatment.

Eventually she let out a long, satisfied sigh and pulled my head back from her pussy. She slid her leg off my shoulder and leaned back on her own weight. "Wow," is all she said for a moment. "Baby, you did not disappoint." I felt embarrassed at the compliment. She grabbed some toilet paper and dried herself off a bit, then put her panties back on. I had meanwhile continued to kneel on the floor, relaxing and catching my breath. I was also hard as steel, with pre-cum dripping out of me.

"You are such a naughty boy! I can't believe the things you said," she took in a deep breath and let out, "Wow! I love the way you talk! I'm gonna be thinking about that..." She seemed to be momentarily lost in her own thoughts.

I raised myself up, not really knowing what to do next. She smiled at me. "Well, I better get back. Maybe you should stay in here and uh..." she lightly grabbed my hard-standing cock through my pants, "...take care of this. After all... we wouldn't want Jennifer to be suspicious, seeing us come back in together?"

My cock jerked in her hand. I tensed my muscles; I had almost exploded right there. She let out a little laugh, "But then again, who knows, maybe you'd get off on that." She let go of my throbbing dick and opened the stall door. "Maybe you can think about that when you jerk off." She started out but then stopped briefly. "Oh yeah, I guess we're even now. Too bad, huh?" She gave me a wicked smile, then left the room.

I quickly undid the button and fly on my pants and pulled my hardness out. With my left hand pushing against the stall wall, I gripped myself with my right hand and masturbated right there. All I could think about was the feeling of Monica's body: her thighs, her ass, her pussy. I replayed her dirty and scandalous remarks in my mind. I never thought something so fucked up would turn me on so much. What was she doing to me? I can't believe I admitted to her that I thought she was hotter in a skirt than Jennifer. Jesus. Confessing that was so wrong, but fuck, Monica is just so-

And then I came hard. I tried to aim it into the bowl, but it went everywhere. I was shooting it all over, and there was so much. I got so turned on, so built up from eating her out and listening to her talk dirty. It was amazing.

After I calmed down, I cleaned up the mess and washed my hands. Then I realized I needed to wash my face and rinse out my mouth the best I could. I would need to choke down some mints or something when I got back to the kitchen to mask the smell of pussy off my breath. Once I felt reasonably composed, I made my way back.

Monica and her family were already gone. That was a relief. Jennifer was busy helping one of the chefs so she couldn't come up to me right away, but she shot me a look that could have killed. I found some peppermints in a jar and sucked some down, then went back to work, trying to act as normal as I could. Eventually Jennifer found an opportunity to accost me.

"Where the hell were you?" she hissed.

"Uh, the bathroom," I replied annoyed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"It sure took you a hell of a long time to take a piss! Did you see Monica?"

I shot back, "How the fuck would I see her? I'm sitting in there, taking a fat shit for Christ sake! What's wrong with you?"

She was taken aback by this comment. It appeared to work. She mumbled, "Oh" and went back to some other task. I tried to look irritated in case she looked back at me, but inside I was shaking with relief. That was a close one. If she knew that I had just given my all to Monica's dripping pussy... well... She didn't know.

My own feelings were a mess. Part of me felt terrible guilt for what I had just done. But still a part of me did the best to rationalize it. I had to give in to Monica, or she would ruin my relationship. Or, fuck it; Jennifer's goddamn paranoia practically drove my lust for Monica. Maybe if she'd shut up for once, I wouldn't feel this need to rebel. But then I'd waver back and realize I was making excuses for my own behavior. I didn't know how to feel. The only thing I did know was one day soon, the next time I went down on my girlfriend, I was sure I'd be thinking about Monica's pussy at that time.

III

A few more weeks had passed without much event. Monica still toyed with me at work, often making insinuations about our recent encounter. I had decided to make some kind of stand for myself; now that we were even, there would be no more illicit trysts. Sure, she can flirt her ass off at work, there isn't much I can do about that, but otherwise I was attempting to be determined to remain faithful to Jennifer. I say "attempting" because there was always a persistent voice in the back of my head that wanted nothing more than to see what Monica had in store for me next. But I did my best to keep fantasy as just that.

One day, she said to me, "I hope we can have one of our... conversations again sometime." My moral resolve failed me and I couldn't manage to say any kind ofno. Instead, I smiled sheepishly, remembering the terrible things she and I had said in the past. "Mmm, I guess I'm not the only one!" she cooed, and went about her business.

Things went on like that for a little while. Jennifer still hated seeing Monica flirt with me at work, although as far as I could tell, she wasn't bothered by her that much when I wasn't around. I tried to assuage her paranoia, which succeeded when we weren't on the job, but at work it was pointless. She routinely became cold to me and acted as if I didn't exist. This annoyed me greatly, and I thought, all you're doing is pushing me towards Monica as a friendly face. At leastsheis civil at work. But I kept that to myself.

It was a Saturday night when something bizarre happened. Normally when we go out on dates, or just stay in and hang out together, we tend to avoid talking about work, lest Monica enter the conversation and instigate a fight. This evening was going pretty well. Jennifer brought home some margaritas and we relaxed with them, watching some campy horror movie. It was one of those newer ones that tries to draw in young viewers by hiring beautiful fresh actors and actresses as eye candy to compensate for the pathetic plot.

We were having a good time, slightly buzzed, laughing at the movie. Whenever some young hottie on the screen came on in a skimpy outfit, Jennifer jokingly cheered, "Yay, more T and A!" I returned the favor with the guys in the film, and it was no big deal. At some point she asked me which girl I thought was the best looking. I told her, thinking it was no big deal (as she's typically comfortable with that kind of thing unless it was concerning you-know-who).

But I was quickly dismayed to hear her say, "Yeah, I figured. She is definitely the hottest one. She looks like Monica."

I gave her an incredulous look as if to saydrop it, but she continued. "She has the same body type and everything. Look at her in that tiny skirt. I bet I know what that reminds you of." She muttered half insulting, half ruminating on her own words. I think it was the alcohol that mellowed her out from getting really pissed off.