The Outlaw, The Attorney & The Ex

This story goes in Romance? Even though there's lots going on here: exhibitionism, spanking, threesomes, divorce, and more... I still feel this one belongs in Romance. Hope you'll agree.

***

I had enough. Thirteen years of marriage down the tubes, just because that asshole can't keep it in his pants. Bangs every fucking woman that bats an eyelash. I was livid it ever got this far. "I should have divorced you ten years ago, the first time this happened. You remember, right? Back when you SWORE to me it would never happen again!" Brian wasn't saying a word, just hanging his head in shame while he stood naked in front of me. The cum-drenched woman -- the one who I caught him with -- raced out of the room before facing my wrath. Not that she was the problem. I wasn't mad at her. Just the asshole she was fucking. "I want you out of this house tonight!" I demanded, stomping the floor.

"Aw, come on, Janice. You know that's unfair."

"Unfair?! What the fuck is wrong with you, Brian? Unfair? You're literally banging a goddamn stranger in our -"

"She's not a stranger!"

Silence hung in the air after he said those words. Finally, I responded, "That doesn't make it better, Brian. That makes it worse. Go move in with her, then."

"I can't do that, Janice. Look, I messed up. I'll do anything. We can go to therapy. I'll read those books you wanted me to read last time -"

I held my hands up. "Shut. Up." I allowed that unsettling silence to hang again. I didn't want to listen to his voice, much less encourage conversation. "You know what, Brian. You stay. I'll go."

"Wh... what?"

"I'm taking a vacation, Brian. I'm going to think about things, specifically my future. When I come back, you need to have decided whether you want this house, or if you are willing to let it go. I don't fucking care, but one thing is for certain, we won't be together anymore."

"Stop talking crazy, Janice."

"I mean it, Brian. Wrap your head around the fact that you and I are finished."

"What makes you say that? I can be better!"

"Brian, a rock could be better. Everything we've built, you just shit on. Zero respect for me!"

"Janice, I swear I'll make it up. I'll give you a pass!"

"A pass? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"A pass. Go out. Cheat on me. I deserve it!"

"I don't need a fucking PASS to get laid. I could get laid any time I want. For fuck's sake, Brian, look at all the shit I go through to look good for you! Brazilian waxes, workouts five times a week, swimming two nights a week. That's fucking effort! And I do it because I enjoy looking good for my man. Until now, anyway. It's clear you don't appreciate it. But I could have found someone anytime I wanted, Brian! I never needed a pass! I actually respected you! That's why I didn't do it. Why, for fuck's sake, why did you?!"

"Janice, please." Brian was on his knees, tears streaming. "I'm such an idiot. I didn't mean to hurt you! I'm sorry, I swear, I'm so, so sorry..." He was pulling every bullshit apology from the Cheater's Handbook of Bullshit Apologies.

"You know what? Let me show you how much it hurts. You want to give me a pass. Fine. I'll take it."

"You... you will?"

"Don't think for a minute this means we're getting back together, Brian, but I will allow you to experience this feeling."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll keep you posted. Don't expect me back for a while. At least a couple weeks!"

I didn't bother packing. Instead, I just picked up the keys to the Bentley and marched out the door. A shopping spree sounded good. It would give me time to clear my head and think about what I want to do with myself. I know I don't want to be with a man who deceives me, and Brian has defined himself as that kind of man. I don't care how thick one's skin is. Being cheated on hurts. I wanted to lash out, to hurt him, but I tried to push those negative thoughts back and instead focus on me.

It has been a long time since I truly felt loved. Not just emotionally, which I thought Brian and I had, but also, physically. The thing is, when I walked in on Brian and his mistress (whoever she is), I got jealous. They were both soaked in sweat, obviously having spent considerable time and energy in the act before I stumbled onto them. She was just finishing sucking him off when I caught them. Not just sucking him, but really going at it, and he was thrusting hard, helping her work it. If it were anyone other than my husband, I would have found it very hot. I could tell they were satisfied, and it has been so long since I felt that kind of raw, sexual emotion.

Going without meaningful, engaging sex does something to you. Or rather, it doesn't do something for you. It leaves you with this emptiness, not just in your heart, but also like in the pit of your stomach. In your soul, you know you are missing something, almost as valuable as air. Life isn't right without it.

Brian and I were both sophomores in college when we met, equally driven and spunky. It seemed like a no-brainer we were meant for each other. By our junior year, we decided we were done with school and by sheer luck (and a bit of networking), I was asked to design the logos and merchandise for a sporting goods company. That company happened to go viral several months later and I piggybacked for the ride. Not that I didn't do my part. Brian and I both did, working our asses off for them. A couple years later, Brian secured another anchor client that brought in seven figures a year in business. Our little advertising agency now has over a hundred active clients and a staff of nine, not including Brian and myself. Not bad for college dropouts.

I remembered back to the night when Brian and I met, a mixer at the fraternity where he had pledged. Like many frat parties, things got out of hand. This guy named Todd Hampton kept hitting on me. I wasn't interested, but the more I drank, the more I let my guard down. Somehow, we ended up in the upstairs hall, and Todd began groping me under my shirt, trying to pull my tits out of my bra. I fought back (in that half-assed, timid-college-girl-who-won't-assert-herself kind of way) when Brian stepped up, making quick work of my assailant, decking him to the floor. He knocked that asshole out cold. It was the first time a man ever stood up for me like that.

Two dates later, we were parking in his truck at Pott's Peak. We laid in the truck bed watching the stars when he started kissing me. He brought his hand down, slipping it under my skirt and soon his fingers were inside me. Our lips locked harder, tongues engaging, and he gently began sliding in and out of my pussy with his two middle fingers, briefly retracting to circle my clitoris with his forefinger, then diving back in again. I still recall how my toes shook as Brian touched me for the first time. It's been so long since he touched me like that.

It was even better when he pulled me off the truck later that night. He stripped me of everything and bent me over. The sex was animalistic, a sprinkling of passion, but mostly just bare, banal, unbridled sexual fulfilment. Brian was so hard inside me, it felt like hot steel. I reminded myself that those moments were back when things were good. Hell, they were great. But they were years ago, almost forgotten memories. I wiped a tear from my eye and got out of my car, heading into Julia's, my favorite boutique in town.

***

"Hey, Julia. Got time for a drop-in?" I asked.

Julia practically hopped out of her shoes when she saw me. "For you? Anything! I have an appointment at four, but that gives us plenty of time."

"It might not, honey. I plan on spending buckets today." Fuck it, I thought. I deserved to treat myself. It didn't take too long to get in the spending grove. By 3:30, I'd picked out two evening dresses, a handful of casual (but sexy) tops, one bikini, and one very naughty lingerie set, which included a shelf bra that fully exposed my nipples. I've never owned anything so risqué, and I intended to find out what it was like.

I liked the style so much, I decided to try on another bra with low cups, this one a light pink number. In the mirror, I could see that my areolas were slightly visible. I thought it looked erotic, especially with the cute skirt I was currently trying on, but the straps were uncomfortable. I stepped out of the dressing room and asked, "Julia, do you have more bras like this? I'm liking the style, but not the cut. It doesn't fit quite right."

Julia twisted me around and began adjusting the straps and clasps. "You must tell me, dear. Are you and the hubby going on vacation? Perhaps I can help if I know exactly wha-"

"Hah!" I laughed. "This is purely a solo mission, Julia." Julia can almost be thought of as a therapist, or at minimum, a bartender. Anything said, she keeps to herself, and it's probably one reason why she's done so well for herself. Many of her customers not only trust Julia with their measurements and fittings, but also with their secrets. Shopping really can be therapeutic for some people.

Julia leaned in, whispering, "Janice, is everything okay at home?"

I loved how she cut through the bullshit. "I'm going to take some time away from home, Julia. Maybe go to-"

Just then, the front door burst open and a stocky, bearded man in a denim jacket and jeans rushed in. It was hard to tell his age with the facial hair, but I wouldn't have guessed over forty. There was a blood on his left wrist and some on his jacket and jeans, which were scuffed up from the ankle to the hip. "Hey, I hate to... well, I just had an accident. Guy in a Mercedes ran me off the road."

"Are you okay? I can call emergency services." Julia stepped away from me and cautiously approached the imposing man. I could tell his presence made her uncomfortable. Julia isn't accustomed to men coming into her boutique, much less ones that look like they recently escaped a small riot.

"No, no, I'll be okay, and my bike survived. I just need to clean up. Wish I'd gotten the license plate number of that vehicle." The man carefully removed his jacket, revealing a cut frame in a tight black t-shirt.

Julia looked to me as if to ask for help, before turning her attention back to the stranger. A switch went off in my head. I never would have behaved this way if the events that happened earlier today hadn't take place. "Sir, let me show you to the bathroom. It's usually for customers, but I'm sure Julia can make an exception. I can handle this," I said, waving the shopkeeper off. "I know you have another customer coming soon. Set me up with two more blouses, a pair of jeans and a couple skirts. You know what I like."

"Uh... well, okay, Miss Harper, if you trust me to-"

"You know I do, Julia. Just ring everything up on my account." Julia nodded, relieved she didn't have to deal with the biker, and complacent that she'd get a considerable sum of money for the trouble. "You come with me." I grabbed the biker's good hand and led him to the rear bathroom. "What's your name?"

"Les Pavell. Thank you for helping."

"Wait a minute. Isn't there a Les Pavell that..."

I didn't finish my question. He interrupted, "Yeah, yeah, that's me. The guy in the ads."

I'd seen this man in everything, though he looked much different in the ads than he did now. Billboards, newspapers, park benches. I'd seen his print ads everywhere. I even heard him on the radio. Not to mention, lots of television interviews. One could never forget his slogan: "Get the MOST out of your attorney and don't forget: MORE means LES!" With the thick beard, it was almost impossible to recognize him. "You're like the top defense lawyer in the city, aren't you? Or so you claim?"

"And it's a valid claim, thank you," he laughed. "I work hard for my clients."

"Your attire gives one the impression that the work you do is... blue collar. Not the way I typically picture an attorney." I turned on the water at the sink and pulled some paper towels off a roll, which were mounted near the counter.

"You might say I party blue collar, but my work is white collar. You know, miss, I was raised by bikers. I didn't have a typical Ivy League upbringing."

"Is that right?"

"My father was a mechanic and my mother, a waitress. Not just a waitress, but mixed race, living in the South." Perhaps that explained his olive-toned skin. "Because of them, I witnessed a lot of good people get into a lot of unnecessary trouble. Picked on by both troublemakers and law enforcement. They didn't have decent attorneys. You could say I was inspired."

"Why do I get the sense you've told this sob story to everyone?" I held Les' wrist and started to scrub away the blood when I noticed what I was wearing. When Les came crashing through Julia's doors, I must have become completely distracted. I'd forgotten I was still in the process of trying on clothes. I looked to the bathroom mirror for confirmation, still in the cute skirt and the low-cut brassiere. One of my nipples had completely escaped and the other was almost halfway out. Quickly, I pulled away and dropped the wet towel, and frantically tried to sort out my top, trying to get my nipples stuffed back in place properly.

"Aw, that's too bad. I was enjoying the view," Les smirked.

I burst out laughing. For whatever reason, Les made the awkwardness immediately disappear. I stopped groping myself and said, "Yeah, you biker types like your women naked, don't you? You're probably used to this."

Les chuckled, "Well, between you and me, most of them don't look half as nice as you."

I picked the towel back up and bowed. Inevitably, a nipple escaped again. This time, I didn't care. "Thank you very much for the compliment, Mr. Pavell." I grabbed his wrist again and held the towel with my free hand, ignoring the wardrobe malfunction. In fact, I kind of embraced it. "You don't think I'm cut out to be a biker chick?" I bat my lashes playfully.

"Hmm, you got the right spunk, maybe."

I pumped some soap and lathered his arm, cleaning up the area. "I don't think this is as bad as it looks. Let me see your leg." I pulled a couple dry towels and dabbed off his wet skin, before dropping to my knees. His jeans were scuffed badly. "Feel sore? Any cuts?"

"Bruised up, probably, but I don't think I scraped too much flesh. I should thank the guy that taught me how to crash and fall."

"They teach that?"

"Indeed, they do."

"Well, let me take a look. I can't see anything, unless you drop the-"

"What'd you say your name was?"

"I didn't. It's Janice."

Les tried to stop me. "Janice, you've done enough. Thank you so much."

"I go by the motto 'be safe, not sorry'. Let's clean up all the cuts and not risk infection."

"I'm sure it's fine."

"What? You don't want me to see you in your tighty whiteys? It's not th-"

"I'm not wearing any."

There was a brief pause while I processed what he meant. "Oh, you aren't wearing underwear!" I shrugged my shoulders, smirking, "Makes it more fun playing doctor."

Les laughed again and without missing a beat said, "If you say so!", and dropped his pants. I am not typically a size queen, but right now -- in my somewhat fragile state of mind -- I suppose I was. I wanted what Les offered. I wanted it now. And I think I wanted Brian, my ex-asshole, to know I had it. My eyes shot to the biker-slash-attorney, looking past his hefty package. "Les, are you making a pass at me?"

"I'm not sure which of us is, to be honest."

I grabbed his balls with my left hand. They were heavy and felt so big. Warm. I loved that feeling in my fingers, as I gently squeezed. His cock twitched in response. I dropped the paper towels and reached for his shaft. I felt myself getting damp as I took it in my grip. "Can I suck you?" I whispered.

Les said nothing, but touched my chin, gently opening my mouth with his fingers. Then, he inserted his cock, stopping at the base of the head. I wrapped my lips tightly around it, swirling my tongue under the tip, tasting the precum. Had I turned him on so much already? I slowly took him in further and reached down to my panties, sliding my fingers under the thin material to touch myself. He groaned deeply as I went to work. A few minutes into it, I pulled off, holding his cock in my right hand, but propping it against my face while I spoke. "You mind doing me one, very kinky favor?"

"Lady, I might look like the wild type to you, but this is probably the kinkiest thing I've ever done, period. What more do you want?"

I stretched to reach my purse on the counter and handed Les my phone, after turning on the camera. "Just two or three quick pictures."

Les chuckled and shrugged, "If you say so. Make sure you send me one."

"Okay," I agreed, as I went back to work sucking him off. Les snapped two shots, when I stopped and quickly asked. "Wait. Should I finish you off here, or should I let you fuck me?" By the look on his face, Les was shocked by the question and struggled to form an answer. Was there a wrong answer? He didn't have time to respond, because a shrill of a scream erupted in the air.

"Oh, my God! What is going on here!?" Julia rushed forward, but then stopped suddenly, before getting too close.

"What's the matter, Julia?" I quipped. "Haven't you ever seen this before?"

"NOT in my store, no!"

Before she protested more, I jumped up and grabbed her by both wrists. She halfheartedly resisted at first but gave in rather easily. I pulled her down, dropping us both in front of Les, our faces inches from his stiff rod. He protested this time, "Ma'am, no. If your friend isn't -- "

"Shut it!" I barked, grabbing his hard dick. With my other hand, I reached behind Julia's head and brought it closer to mine. "Just watch," I whispered. "He's already very close. We wouldn't want to ruin it." I took his cock back in my mouth, allowing Julia to witness my actions from less than a foot away. I could practically feel her breath on my cheeks. Julia still appeared nervous, almost panicked, yet captivated. Her eyes darted around the room, constantly coming back to the sexual impropriety occurring in front of her. I pulled back off. I have no idea what came over me, but I brought my face to Julia's and as if it were practiced, our lips touched, a sensuality so different than any man's. I pushed in deeper, this time using tongue. She reciprocated. Meanwhile, my left hand was adeptly stroking Les, keeping him primed. Finally, our lips parted, and I looked back to Les. "Get ready," I said.

"I'm not going to last much longer," he said, his voice quivering. "This is so fucking hot."

I smiled and said, "If you can't last, maybe you'll have to make up for it later." Julia gasped as I opened wide and took Les in, all the way to the base, deepthroating him. It may have looked impressive, but it was a skill I learned with Brian long ago. Once you get past the gag reflex, you can get anything down there, size be damned. Sword swallowing would be an example of taking it to absurd levels.

Julia leaned in even closer. "How do you do that?" she asked as I went back and forth on Les' shaft. I could feel his pulse in my throat and by experience, I could tell he was on the verge of exploding. I'm not sure what I was thinking -- again, I'll blame it on the existential crisis I was experiencing -- but I pulled off at the last second and began pumping him hard and fast with my left hand. Brian was inches away. I brought Julia in closer still and practically licked her ear, whispering, "Taste him with me." She moaned, agreeable to it.

The first speck of sperm hit my left cheek and I shot my eyes to Les', encouraging him, "More! We want all of it!" A second - and much more powerful - rope of cum hit both me and Julia in our faces. I was in the process of tilting his cock, aiming his throbbing member directly at her. To my great surprise, Julia opened her mouth wide and closed her eyes tightly. I took that as a message and yanked Les's cock closer to her lips. He continued to erupt, his seed hitting the roof of Julia's mouth, then her lips and chin. I shoved him in closer again. "Save a little for me," I cried, while I kept pumping his shaft. I could feel another flood of semen rapidly running through it. I pulled him out of Julia's mouth, taking over, pushing the shopkeeper away. It was dribbles coming out now, but it aroused me intensely and was absolutely delicious. I wasn't sure, but I think I might have climaxed in the exchange, even though I wasn't being physically touched. I was throbbing down there, as if coming off an orgasm, for sure.