A Sordid Arrangement

Author's Note: This is a straight cheating story. No direct cuckolding, as the boyfriend remains oblivious to her actions throughout and she totally gets away with it. There's a lot of build-up, but also a lot of sex (when it starts!). Enjoy.

A Sordid Arrangement

(Or How Erin Got Her Freak On)

"The guy's an asshole!"

"Oh Sweetie... he can't be that bad," Erin Winters said to her boyfriend.

As expected Peter stared at her in disbelief. "Erin, I'm serious: he's THAT bad!"

They had been sitting on the green bench by the lake for over an hour now, and almost all of that she had spent patiently listening to her boyfriend, Peter Follett, complain about his university dormitory roommate. What had begun as a pleasant walk across campus, both of them looking to enjoy an unusually warm October day (unusual as far as an Eroshire autumn could be), was now swiftly becoming irritating for Erin.

It seemed Kyle Matthews was all that her dear boyfriend wanted to talk about.

"So he's a little full of himself," she said, shrugging.

"A little? He's a little more than that!" Peter replied. "He's constantly taking the piss. Makes me do all the work in the dorm - I'm always cleaning up after him - and whenever his friend's are around, and they're around ALL the time, he makes fun of me. They all do. Constantly." Folding his arms, Peter stared out over the campus lake and sighed. "I feel like I'm back at school."

"Oh Sweetie..." Erin wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. "Just ignore him."

She wished she could ignore Peter when he got like this. At first she had been sympathetic to his problem with his roommate, but that had been a month ago. By now this rant was becoming a regular fixture of their time together, and Erin was struggling to keep from growing annoyed.

For as long as she had known him, since they were children, Peter had always been the nerdy kid. So was Erin, and she would be the first to admit it, for she was proud of who she was, but in the years since school she had changed what she didn't like about herself, and it wasn't due to the name-calling and taunts hurled at her when she was young. Yes, she had been a chubby girl when she was younger, and yes she had been the brunt of many fat jokes, but here she sat, at just a few months shy of twenty, with a body she worked hard to maintain at the gym.

A body that turned heads when she wore the right clothes, and Erin knew it.

Watching her boyfriend continue to complain, Erin just wished Peter knew how lucky he was, and what she was willing to put up with for that sweet kid still inside him. Yet in many ways he was also still that scared kid who used to hide behind her in junior school whenever anyone made fun of his bright red hair. She thought it was cute; he hated it and had shaved it off when they moved to their university digs.

Perhaps Peter had thought shaving his head would make him look tougher. She didn't have the heart to tell him that with his expanding waistline, pudgy limbs and freckled face, he was not going to strike fear in the hearts of anyone.

"It's worse when he brings girls back," Peter continued to say. "Kyle loves to joke he's going to rope me into a threesome, and then laughs when they look like they're going to throw up."

"Fuck those skanks," Erin said. "I think you're sexy." She kissed him on the cheek.

He smiled at her, and Erin remembered why she loved him. Peter had such a sweet smile, it reminded her of simpler days when they would play games round each others' houses. Sitting on their beds playing their consoles until the early hours of the morning, or when their parents popped in to remind them that they had school tomorrow, and that they should get some sleep.

It was a smile that reminded Erin that Peter was her oldest, and dearest friend. She had been the one to ask him out, aged fourteen, when they had known each other for over ten years, and they had been dating since. Fate had seen them both accepted into Eroshire University, and for that Erin was grateful: she wasn't sure she could have handled a long distance relationship with Peter. She needed him by her side; he was her rock, and Erin knew she was his.

"Thanks, Erin," he said, kissing her on the lips.

For a moment they sat there, tenderly kissing, and Erin didn't know what she enjoyed most; the change of topic or the attention of her loving boyfriend.

Breaking the kiss Peter looked at her, his face suddenly serious, and said "promise me you'll stay away from him."

Taken aback, Erin could only frown in confusion. "Who? Kyle?" she laughed. "Jesus, Peter. He sounds like a serial killer."

"More like a serial adulterer," he muttered.

"Oh really?" she regarded him with both offence and genuine amusement. "And why would he be a threat to us? Is he going to snap his fingers and make me drop my panties for him?"

"I'm serious," Peter said. "In the month since we started term he's had a different girl round the flat almost every night." Seeing her sceptical expression he added: "I would know. He's make a point to introduce me to every single one of them. It's like he's rubbing it in my face."

"Rubbing what, Peter?" Erin raised an eyebrow.

"Erm..." Peter began to turn bright red. She loved how easily he was embarrassed. "I didn't... I mean what I meant was..."

"What you meant was he's having to settle for mere mortals, while you have a goddess."

"Yeah. I know," he said. Visibly relieved that she had decided to mercifully bail him out.

Having enjoyed Peter's moment of clumsy verbal hole-digging, Erin decided to probe him on his apparent favourite subject. "So... what type of girls does Kyle bring back?"

"All different types, and ages," Peter said. "One night he brought back this woman - she had to have been one of the lecturers, I swear I've seen her on campus heading to the Blue Theatre - and the next night this much younger girl turns up - looks almost EXACTLY like the previous, to the point I'm sure the second girl was the first's daughter."

"Impressive," Erin said, raising her eyebrows in exaggeration.

"He's had the personal trainers at the gym, the barmaids at the bar, even the girls at the cafe," Peter said. "But he's had many who can't be students. Most of them had rings on their fingers."

"Wow... what a bunch of sluts," Erin said. "Imagine cheating on your other half with a student." She couldn't imagine cheating, full stop: she would never do that to her Peter. "And you've met all of them?"

"No joke. He likes to parade them in front of me. I wonder if he thinks I'm a virgin."

"Well you're definitely not!" Erin smiled at him; she could still remember the night that they had lost their virginities to each other. He had been so sweet, so very shy. She hadn't been anything different. It must have been funny to watch: these two teens clumsily slapping their bodies, but in the moment it had been something special, and they had only gotten better at sex since then.

"God, wish he wasn't so fucking loud with them, though."

Peter's comment brought her crashing back to reality, and for a moment she quickly reminded herself of what her boyfriend had been talking about before she had started daydreaming about their sex life.

"Oh? Are they screamers?" She asked, a wicked grin on her face. The thought of being loud while having sex was an amusing one to her: with Peter she never screamed or moaned as loud as some of the girls in her dorm had done since term began. Especially her own roommate, Angie, who had a boyfriend, not on campus but living close by, and he paid her frequent nightly visits. Some of the things Erin had heard them say through the walls! It was like a bad porn film!

"Not just them," Peter said. "It's him too. All night sometimes."

"Not ALL night, really?" she asked, incredulous. Who had that kind of stamina?

Peter nodded. "I'm not joking. Sometimes he's fucking them for six hours or more. How could anyone have that kind of stamina?"

A curious fleeing began in the depths of Erin's groin as she listened to Peter. Fuck, six hours? As much as she enjoyed sex with Peter, he rarely lasted more than a half-hour, often leaving her wanting more, and she would frequently sneak off to the bathroom when he had gone to sleep (sex always tired him out) to finish herself off. Sometimes she would masturbate for ages in an effort to satiate her cravings. She had never mentioned any of this to Peter; she doubted he was aware of it.

"That sounds ridiculous!" Erin said, trying to ignore her slowly waking libido. "I doubt anyone could have sex for that long!"

"Yeah, you're right. They must be keeping me awake with enthusiastic yoga."

She gave him a look; she didn't appreciate it when Peter was sarcastic with her.

He noticed: "I'm sorry. As you can tell I haven't been getting much sleep lately."

Erin gave him a squeeze. "I'm sorry, Sweetie. Maybe we should get you some ear plugs."

"Tried that. Can still hear them," he said. "I'm surprised no one else has complained."

Maybe they were all getting laid too, she mused. "Sleeping pills?"

"There's an idea." Peter sighed, then looked at her and smiled. "I'm so glad I have you. I don't think I could compete with a guy like Kyle."

"Why must everything be a competition?" Erin asked. "Who has the biggest? Who can last the longest? Who cares! Relationships are built on more than sex." Although having good sex was a bonus in a relationship, she thought as she held his hand in hers, looking him in the eye. "I love you, Peter Follett. Don't worry about anything that cunt says or does. You are the luckiest man alive, because you have me."

He smiled back, squeezing her hand. "You're right as always," he said.

His smile was so genuine; Erin found herself remembering why she had fallen in love with him in the first place.

"Hey, I'm sorry if I've been boring you with my complaining."

"Don't worry. Can't all have roommates like mine," Erin said. Even if Angie was a bit of a slut, she was sweet and kind; not all like how Peter painted this Kyle. Angie and she would often go out, tasting cocktails in each bar in town, and if Angie made fun of Erin's commitment to Peter, it was all good-natured with no ill-intent. Erin suspected Angie just liked seeing her friend happy.

"What's the time?" Peter rhetorically asked as he pulled his phone from his pocket. "Shit! I'm gonna be late for class." He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "Sorry for bitching."

"No worries, Sweetie," she said, smiling. "Are we still on for tomorrow?" She would have loved it to have been tonight, but Peter always said he had mountains of work to do in the labs. It was like pulling teeth to get him to agree to go out, even on a Friday.

"Course. After class," he said, gathering his satchel and swinging it over a shoulder. "Say six? Or too early?"

"Six is fine. See you then."

Erin watched her sweet and loving boyfriend hurry off for his class. She was done for the day - the benefit of front-loading classes in the morning - and with nothing better to do Erin figured she would head to the campus gym. Couldn't hurt to get some cardio in, or some core work either.

****

She decided to work on her core. For the last few months she had been working on her abs now that she had met her long-term goal of a flat stomach. It was starting to pay off; as she lay on the mat, lifting her thighs and feeling the strong resistance of the band around them, Erin saw the definition of her muscles glistening beneath the sweat of a good forty or so minutes of work.

Rise and fall. Working her hips like... Erin stopped, frowning at her own imagination, as it had been about to dive into something quite explicit. Stop it, she told herself. She should cut back on the porn; another side-effect of Peter's continuing disappointment in the bedroom. It was a rabbit hole she had fallen down that one time she searched on her phone, and now every other day she was jerking off to a new upload.

It really wasn't healthy. She should cut back.

Part of her felt like her masturbatory habits were a betrayal to Peter, like it was a silent way of saying he wasn't enough, that he didn't satisfy her.

But good God, she was becoming horny. As loving and as caring as Peter was, his dick just wasn't scratching that itch for her. Feeling embarrassed at her thoughts, Erin looked around, despite telling herself that no one in the gym had telepathy, nor was she obviously turned on, just sweaty with exercise.

Which described everyone else in the small, yet versatile gym on campus.

At this time in the afternoon there weren't many students, or lecturers, around. Most would still be at afternoon class, or catching some sleep before a big night out (it didn't matter that it was a Thursday - every night was a big night out on campus). There were the usual on the treadmills, getting their steps in while going nowhere, while one large chap was furiously peddling all on his own; the other five machines curiously unoccupied despite the popularity of the cycles for some easy cardio.

Looking over at the bench press Erin sighed when she saw the usual crowd; those three were the reason she wished Peter would come with her to the gym.

They were also the reason Erin was glad he didn't.

At almost six feet Erin was tall for a woman, and almost two full inches taller than Peter. These guys were easily six-two, six-three; the tanned one, with the hot smile and love of never wearing a fucking shirt, was the tallest, but not by much. The other two, while considerate enough to wear t-shirts at least, were visibly just as muscular beneath their clothing.

She didn't know their names, and didn't care to. Erin referred to them as Curls, Buzzcut and Mop, after the ways their hair were styled. Mop was the one doing the bench presses, his brown arms glistening with sweat as he lifted, while Buzzcut leaned on the bars laughing at something Curls was saying.

Thankfully none of them had noticed her. She was in no mood for their aggressive flirtations. It bordered on sexual harassment, and on several occasions she had been tempted to report their banter to the campus head of Equality and Diversity, who, Erin had heard, had led a #MeToo cull of the faculty a few years ago. Several lecturers with a lecherous history had been fired, and it was agreed the campus was a whole lot safer for women thanks to Mrs Rothfuss.

Then Erin had found out, via Angie, that Buzzcut (she vaguely recalled Angie mentioning his name was Bradley, or something) was sleeping with her. So Erin had decided not to bother ever reporting those three to that cheating slut. She had two kids and a husband of twenty years!

Some women...

Surprised at how irritated she was, whether with those three guys or how sexually frustrated she was feeling today, Erin wasn't sure, so she began her exercise again with renewed vigour.

Staring out of the wide windows that took up a whole wall of the gym, offering an unparalleled view of campus from the second floor of the building furthest up the valley. It was why Erin loved coming here; a gorgeous view of the Eroshire valley, campus digs, fields, lake, and the distant city of Coytoss. Capital of the county and fourth largest city in the UK, apparently.

It was a view to take her mind off things. Like an unfair irritation with her boyfriend. Whether it was Peter's constant bemoaning of his roommate, or how he wasn't satisfying her sexually, she felt guilty about how she was letting herself get irritated by such trivial things! She should support her boyfriend if he were having problems, not roll her eyes and make jokes about it!

And as for sex? There was more to a relationship!

"Hey there, Sexy!"

Tearing her eyes from the gorgeous view Erin looked up at the infuriatingly gorgeous face of the one she called Curls, for how his head of dirty blonde hair curled up at the ends in a way that screamed 'I just got out of bed and couldn't be bothered to comb'. He was infuriatingly gorgeous, and Erin couldn't help but admit he was sexy as fuck, with tanned skin, chiselled jawline, eyes a deep blue that you could get lost in if you weren't careful, and a fantastic body; all defined abs, pecs, and limbs that were muscular, but not too big that she would fear for her life if he wrapped his arms around her.

Not that she would want him to. Wrap his arms around... her... fuck...

This was one reason why she hated these three guys: they awoke urges in her. Urges that her dear, darling, wonderful, sweet, caring, beautiful Peter did not seem to be able to satisfy, and he seemed blissfully unaware of it. Erin knew that some time tonight she was going to rub one out, and this fucker's face was going to be what would tip her over the edge...

Again.

Another reason not to give up porn.

"What do you want?" she muttered.

"Just saying hello!" he replied. She hated his smile: so smug and patronising. Like he knew he was hot, and knew how it was affecting her. "Thought I'd do some sit-ups here."

She looked at the mat he was standing on, right next to hers, then looked at the eight others all spread out in front of the window. All of them were unoccupied. "Do you have to?" she asked, looking back up at him. Try as she might, her eyes kept wandering down his chest, taking in his six pack abs, his defined waistline, that bulge in his tight-fitting shorts...

"Free country," he said, settling down on the mat beside her. "You happen to be in my spot."

That was the second reason why she hated these guys: they were all assholes.

"Free country," she countered. "I was here first."

"Got a nice set growing there," he said. Then slapped his own abs to make the point.

"Thanks..." Erin muttered. She began to work her hips again, ignoring how she could feel his eyes take in the way her slim, toned body moved as she strained against the band. She wasn't going to let this lecherous creep spoil her work-out session. She was almost at her goal. Just a few more and she could escape feeling like she hadn't been run out of the gym again by these three dickholes.

Erin heard him making soft grunting sounds, as well as the squeak of the mat. "Doing anything tonight?" he asked.

"What?" she stopped and looked at him. He was doing sit-ups.

"Doing anything tonight?" he asked, not pausing. "Any plans? Anything important?"

"I have a boyfriend."

"You didn't answer my question," he said. He paused, resting on the mat, and winked at her.

"I did."

"So what are you two doing? Date night? Dinner? Takeaway? Sex?"

"I... none of your fucking business."

"So no plans, then." He resumed his sit-ups. "I'm wondering if you have a boyfriend, Sexy, or if you're just making him up."

"No I'm not," Erin said, resuming her own work-out. Her irritation with this guy was showing, as she bucked her hips faster, clenching her fists as her aching muscles protested. "He's real."

"Doubt that."

"Why?" She was beginning to get annoyed now. What was this guy insinuating? That no one could be interested in her? Erin felt insulted; she had put a lot of hard word into shaping herself, and she was fucking proud of the results. She was hot. Smoking hot. With a body that was, to put it bluntly, totally fuckable. She was tall, with a gym-toned slim body, long, dark - almost pitch black - hair, and tits that hadn't lost the weight she had. It made bra shopping annoying, as most she liked were in sizes designed for much larger women. They were also the reason she preferred to keep to the gym, and not go out running despite the beautiful park near to campus.

And this smug shit was staring right at them, held fast in one of the few sports bras she liked that fit her; a bright pink affair with lime green stripes. It went with the bright pink shorts she had found, that hugged her incredible ass (if she would be so humble as to say).