Taking Charge Pt. 03

"Hey, what was that?" Carole said, leaning forward to look at me.

"What was what?" Jody asked.

Susan gave me a knowing look and said, "She doesn't."

Carole's mouth fell open and Jody's eyes went wide.

"Oh my God! You're fucking him!" Jody hissed.

"No, I'm not!" I said firmly, but grinning. "He just--" I waffled my hand back and forth. "--has his way with my mouth now and then."

Carole chuckled throatily. "That is fucking awesome."

To Jody, I added, "I won't have sex with him."

"Yeah, right," Carole snorted. "Honey, it's just a matter of time before he gets that cunt-wrecker inside you."

Jody and Susan both laughed at that.

Admittedly, I'd thought about it, how it might feel to have something that shockingly huge inside me, but there was no way I would allow it. "Never going to happen."

Carole shook her head. "Sweetie, you've already opened the door. May as well jump through it."

"No," I told her. "I really do love my husband."

Carole raised her eyebrows.

"Becca!" Jody hissed, briefly glancing at Carole. "That wasn't nice."

I guess it wasn't, though I hadn't meant to imply that Carole didn't love her husband. I blushed deeply, thoroughly ashamed.

"It's no big deal," Carole waved away the perceived insult.

Jody shook her head. "Carole..."

"No, really," Carole cut her off and leaned forward. "Girls, swear to me that you will never speak of this outside of our group."

All of us nodded and leaned in, keenly interested in what our friend was about to reveal.

"David knows about the affairs," she whispered.

That kicked off a round of gasps from all of us, as well as apologies, and concerns. Was he going to divorce her?

"He's impotent," she told us, then added with a shrug. "Well, mostly. There are times where the little blue pill can help him get it up, but he never gets fully erect."

That last part sounded eerily familiar. Ryan never got fully erect either, long and thick enough that at times we had to take things slow, but still. Would we eventually have to resort to blue pills too?

"Oh my God," Jody said quietly. "I had no idea."

"Nobody does," Carole laughed. "I love David, with all of my heart. I willnever leave him, but...come on, a girl needs satisfaction, you know?"

"What about toys?" Susan asked.

"Oh sure. We use toys. We've found allkinds of ways to pleasure each other as best we can, but sometimes nothing but a real cock will do the trick."

"I can't believe this," Jody shook her head. "I mean, I can't believe he knows."

Carole snorted. "Honey, half the time he's there, watching." Jody gasped and Susan's eyes went wide, and so did mine. "He was uncomfortable at first, but that first time I was with another man, he insisted on being there. Imagine our surprise when during the third time he managed to get an erection. I'd say there's about a one in five chance that when he's watching, he'll get hard enough to fuck me." She shrugged again. "I love him. He loves me. It works for us."

Jody blinked, then sighed and gave Carole a supportive smile. "Well, if it works, then I guess I'm happy for you guys."

Carole patted her hand fondly. "Thank you, sweetie."

Jody glanced at me and haltingly asked, "So...can Ryan not...you know?"

"No, no, no," I shook my head vehemently. "That's not it at all. It's just...well, he's not home much."

"Neglect," Carole said quietly. "That's a marriage killer if I've ever seen one."

I shrugged. "Well, it's not neglect, exactly. I mean, he's just gone a lot, sure, but...well, he's kind of vanilla."

Carole and Susan laughed. Since Carole didn't need emotional support, the girls gave it to me. I told them about what had happened thus far with Jake, about how I had tried -- on multiple occasions -- to satisfy my sexual urges with Ryan. My husband was a good man, but he had no interest in anything but missionary. He was so uncomfortable with anything 'out of the norm' that it took a good fifteen or twenty minutes to finish him with my mouth.

I think the allure with Jake was that he was just so very different from Ryan. Jake was free, unashamed. He took what he wanted, when he wanted. I wanted Ryan to take me like that. I wanted him to see me in the kitchen, cooking for him, and bend me over the counter and fuck me, if that's what he wanted. I wanted my husband to desire me, crave me, and take me as the mood struck him. I wanted Ryan to be free of himself.

"God," Jody sighed. "And during all of this, you have to live with Jake and watch him with his girls."

Susan laughed. "She doesn'thave to watch him. Shechooses to watch him."

"That's self-inflicted torture, honey," Carole grinned.

"I know," I frowned.

Jody's expression brightened with an idea and she grabbed my hand. "Maybe you should ask Jake to talk to him!"

I shook my head. "Oh God, no. I couldn't do that."

"Why not?" Susan asked.

"What's he going to tell Ryan?" I scoffed, mimicking a man's voice as best I could. "Here, buddy. Let me show you how your wife likes her mouth fucked."

The girls burst out into raucous laughter. When they had calmed down, Carole brushed her curly blonde hair out of her eyes. "Well, honey, you better do something, because you can only resist Jake for so long."

And that was the honest-to-God truth.

After a bit, we settled into casual conversation, giving the requisite compliments to each other about how nice we looked. I actually got genuine compliments on my ensemble, which had been thrown together out of frustration. Carole liked the look most and suggested that I expand on it. Jody was, I guess not surprisingly, feeling rather confident that day. She wanted to expand her wardrobe too. Since we were all together anyway, we went shopping as a group. I picked up a few more baby tee shirts, half of which bared a lot of my stomach, and very low rise jeans. I wasn't comfortable buying them, but the girls talked me into it. Carole talked me into wearing a pair out of the store, which I was insanely reluctant to do. The waistline was so low that if I moved the right way, you could tell that I was waxed down there. Yeah, low rise, alright.

Susan bought new panties and bras, and they looked so amazing on her that I had to get some for myself. The boy-short style panties favored my body type really well, and were much more comfortable than a thong. I had to pick up more thongs though, thanks to the new jeans. The demi-cup bras showed a lot more cleavage than I preferred, but I had to admit, they were quite sexy.

The girls talked me into getting a few skirts too, the longest falling to about mid-thigh, while the shortest simply could not be worn without underwear, if you catch my drift. But they were cute, and they looked great with the gypsy tops I bought too. Hell, the gypsy tops looked great with everything, though they did show off everything below my breasts. Carole talked me into wearing a white one out of the store as well.

With new strappy low-heeled sandals, I looked like a new woman, and I felt like one too. I was rather excited to show Ryan my new look.

Back home, I went right to my room and checked myself out in the full length mirror. My long dark hair was pulled back in a low pony tail, cascading down my back in big loose twists. A new necklace wrapped around my throat, a simple silver charm dangling just below the hollow of my throat. My shoulders were mostly bare, thanks to the gypsy top, and there was an awful lot of smooth creamy chest on display. The gypsy top clung to my torso just beneath my boobs, exposing the soft expanse of my stomach, and with the jeans riding as low as they were, there was a lot of stomach to show, not to mention the black lace of my thong. God, the jeans looked great on me, but if I bent over far enough, the top of my butt would show.

I loved it!

I was in high spirits, cleaning the grill when the patio door opened behind me.

"Holy shit," Jake breathed.

I turned around and struck a pose with my hand on my hip. "Do I look okay?"

Jake shook his head and dropped the shopping bag he was carrying, then he came closer, stopping about a foot away. He swallowed and just stared at me for a while. At first, he looked kind of shocked, but then his eyes filled with something else, something darker, sexier.

"No," he said softly, shaking his head, and his hands twitched like he wanted to reach out and touch me. "You look amazing, Rebecca."

He said my name sweetly, almost reverently, and it made me feel wonderful.

"Thank you, Jake," I smiled.

He bounced his eyebrows, as though he couldn't believe it was really me standing in front of him. He looked pretty damn good himself. He wore a dark blue tee shirt that looked painted on, and it really brought out the blue of his eyes. His jeans were old and faded, and he was wearing heavy work boots. His muscles bulged under his shirt too, looking ready to burst right through the tightly stretched cotton.

We just stood there and looked at each other for a long time. I don't know what he was seeing, but I was remembering how he looked without a shirt, or any clothing at all, for that matter. Maybe he was remembering the same thing about me. I knew this though; Jake wanted me. Right then, right there, he wanted me more than anything. I could practically feel his gaze ripping the clothes from my body.

He took a fraction of a step closer, swallowing and licking his lips, like he wanted to kiss me, desperately. The urge to reach out and touch him was enormous. I hadn't felt desired in so long, and certainly not the way Jake made me feel. He wasn't just staring at my mouth, which he already owned, which I had already given him -- though I wasn't entirely certain that I would do so again, despite my apparent agreement before. No, he gazed hotly at every inch of me.

He came even closer, so that I had to look up at him, and unbidden, my hands reached out for his hips. I stopped myself and looked past him at the shopping bag.

"Are those the steaks?"

He nodded, still gazing down at me.

I grinned. "Shouldn't you be getting them ready?"

Jake raised his eyebrows. "Oh. Right."

With a big grin, I watched Jake head back into the house, picking up the shopping bag along the way. He was just so out of it, so dazed, and knowing that I was the cause of it was extremely, well, arousing. I felt so feminine, and powerful, like his libido was putty in my hands.

But was it really?

I found myself testing that theory, maybe unconsciously, maybe not. While Jake seasoned the steaks, I fixed the salad and sides. When I was getting the fresh vegetables out of the fridge, I made sure to bend way over and to let the top of my butt peek out of my jeans.

"Where is that darn lettuce?" I complained.

It was right in front of me, of course, but complaining had the desired effect.

"Should be in the..." Jake began, but he stopped with a sharp intake of breath.

"Hmm," I murmured, slowly waving my butt back and forth. "Ah, there it is."

I stood up and smiled triumphantly at Jake, who closed his mouth with a click.

"Something wrong, Jake?" I asked innocently, cocking my head.

He looked at me for a long moment before replying flatly, "Not at all."

I shrugged and chopped up the lettuce, bell peppers and tomatoes, and grated fresh cheese. Popping the salad in the fridge, and bending way over again, I got out a bag of green beans and got them set up in the steamer on the stove. By that point, Jake was outside, seasoning the steaks and getting the grill ready. The moment of quiet and lack of taunting Jake allowed me to wonder if Ryan was going to be home in time for dinner. Normally, I would have called or texted him to find out, but that day, I didn't. Either he'd make it home or he wouldn't.

I really hoped he did though. I felt so good, so revitalized, and I wanted to share it with him. It would be such a waste if he had to work late again.

I glanced outside, where Jake was grilling the bacon-wrapped tenderloins.

Well, maybe not a total waste.

Popping the top off the steamer, I leaned into the stove a bit and let the steam flow up my chest, leaving it nice and glistening and no doubt adding a sexy little flush to my cheeks. Sure, it would take a lot longer to steam the green beans, but I did that all the time. It felt nice. You should try it.

Jake came back in and asked, "Ryan going to make it for dinner?"

I turned towards him, pulling the top of my gypsy shirt away from my chest over and over, as though trying to cool off. Jake's gaze was fixed on the glistening slopes of my boobs, and the always obvious bulge in his jeans was even more obvious. "I don't know. Has he called?"

It took him a moment to answer. "Not me. You?"

Just then, my phone chimed from the living room.

"I'll get it," he grumbled, tearing his gaze away from my chest.

He came back a moment later with my phone. I checked the text from Ryan. He was working late again. I was a lot more disappointed than I thought I'd be. With a sigh, I put the phone down on the counter and turned my back to lean against it.

"He's not going to make it?" Jake said.

I shook my head and stared at my feet. I'd really hoped that Ryan would come home. I felt so confident, so beautiful, and I wanted my husband to see it. But once again, like so many nights over the last few years, I was going to be home alone.

Jake came over to me and gently took my shoulders in his hands. "You okay?"

I nodded, trying to ignore the loneliness in my heart.

"You really wanted him to be here tonight, didn't you?"

I nodded again, trying not to cry.

"So that he could see how beautiful you are."

I looked up at that. Jake gazed at me with adoration, and I could see it in his eyes, how very beautiful I was to him. He slid his hands down my shoulders, and my gypsy top nearly went with them. He held my upper arms in his big strong hands and leaned down. His warm lips pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, then another above my eyebrow, another beside it, another on my temple.

"I'm sorry, Rebecca," he murmured, putting his cheek against my temple and rubbing against me like a cat, his breath warm on my ear.

I sighed and rubbed my cheek against his, taking comfort in his presence, his hands sliding back up my arms and over my shoulders.

"I'm sorry he doesn't appreciate you like he should."

I whimpered at the truth of his statement, and it was so hard not to break down and cry. Jake kissed my temple again, my eyebrow, then my eyelid, so soft and so gentle.

"You have to show him, you know," he whispered, hands sliding up my neck, his body closer, though I didn't remember him moving. "Men don't always pay attention," he said, kissing the side of my nose, down my cheek. "Sometimes you have to just...put it out there."

He kissed lower, at the very corner of my mouth, while his hands slid down my chest and to my sides. For a moment, I thought he would cup my breasts, and I pushed my chest towards him for him to do just that, but his palms merely grazed the sides of my boobs and held my waist. His hands clenched there, only for a moment, but firmly, to let me know that he had me, that he was stronger than me, that if he wanted to, he could take me.

Unexpectedly, his lips brushed along mine. It wasn't the contact itself that caught me off guard. It was the utter tenderness of it. I froze with my lips only slightly parted and he kissed me again, the softest, sweetest kiss I had ever received. His lips smacked quietly, twice, and the very tip of his tongue teased my lips further apart.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

Strange that he would ask right then, I thought. But then again, my legs were shaking, and I might have been hyperventilating, so maybe it made sense to ask. His lips worked softly against mine.

"Is this okay?" he asked, still kissing me. "I mean, it's okay to kiss you, right?"

I wasn't so sure about that. I mean, it felt great, and I was lonely, and he made me feel good, and he wassuch a good kisser, but I was also vulnerable, and married.

"It's okay for friends to kiss, isn't it?"

Well, put that way, I supposed it was. I gave him a small nod and he smiled against my mouth.

"Good."

Jake slanted his mouth over mine and his broad tongue swiped between my lips, plunged into my mouth. It was so sudden that I took a sharp breath through my nose. He'd kissed me last night, of course, but I'd been a bit drunk -- okay, a lot drunk. But now, I was completely sober, and kissing Jake was simply unreal. His tongue was huge, filling my mouth, claiming it, owning it. I tried to suck on his tongue but he took it away, lips closing against mine.

"You're good at this," he said.

He kissed me again, starting with another plunge of his fantastically big tongue, driving it into my mouth, forcing my jaw open with its size, and just as fast, it was gone.

"Really good."

He kept kissing me like that, teasing me with his tongue, a quick but so very deep plunge into my mouth and back, smacking his lips softly. Ryan didn't kiss like this. Not at all. Ryan jabbed his tongue into my mouth and kept it there, and I always did the same with him. What I was doing with Jake wasn't kissing. I don't knowwhat it was, but kissing wasn't it. It couldn't have been, because I had been married for years, and I had never, ever,ever been kissed like that before. Raising my hands, I pushed my fingers into his thick blonde hair and kissed him back, trying to do it the same way. I must have done something right, because Jake clenched his hands around my waist and groaned into my mouth.

"Does Ryan kiss you like this?"

I didn't wait for him to kiss me again. I licked his lips and pushed my tongue into his mouth and pulled it back. I shook my head.

"That's a shame."

Such a simple statement, but also true. It was well and truly a shame, because a kiss like this deserved to be followed up with amazing sex, and sex with Jake would be amazing. I knew it would, despite how large he was and how very tight I would be, how deep he would penetrate me, how thoroughly he would fuck me. But that could never happen, of course.

"You don't mind that it's me, kissing you instead?" he said huskily.

I shook my head again.

"I'm so happy to hear you say that."

Jake held my waist tight and literally tossed me up into the air. I squealed and he caught the back of my thighs. I wrapped my legs around his waist and grabbed the back of his neck. He wasn't really holding me up with his hands either, so my weight pushed my overheated crotch against his denim-confined erection. Cupping my ass with one hand, Jake grabbed my ponytail and pulled my mouth down to his.

Oh, now this was a really great way to kiss. I was a little higher than him, since he was holding me, so I was able to kiss him from above, and every time he pushed his tongue into my mouth or I pushed mine into his, he would thrust his hips and rub the long hard length of his member right up between my legs. The pressure inside me was insane, but the friction against my clit through my jeans was rapidly bringing me to the point of release. Within moments, my jeans felt soaked through, and I had no doubt they really were.

"God, I want to fuck you," he growled.

My reply was one simple word. "No."

Jake chuckled and turned, then started walking. I didn't know where he was taking us, but I didn't care. It didn't matter as long as he kept kissing me and groping my ass and clutching my hair and rubbing his erection against my crotch.

"Can I just put my cock inside you?"

"No."

"Not even just a little?"

I actually laughed a little and clenched my fists tight, pulling his hair. "No."

He was laying me down, on a bed, though which one, I wasn't sure, but I still didn't care.