Crazy Gina

"Bye, hon," I said, leaning down to give my wife a peck on the cheek. "Don't be too late."

"No worries," she replied with a grin. As I turned away, I couldn't help but notice that Gina was still staring boldly at me. I gave her a half-smile and headed out.

* * *

The text came across as I put the kids down. U SHOULD HAVE STAYED FOR DINNER. ID HAVE ENJOYED IT.

Gina, of course. My wife had just texted me to let me know she was on her way home. Gina must be feeling sentimental. AS IT WAS, she continued, I HAD 2 TEASE LUCAS INSTEAD.

I thought briefly about Lucas, sitting in terror while Gina flirted with him. POOR BASTARD, I replied laconically.

WE TEASE HIM A LOT. ITS BORING NOW. I plunked myself down on the couch and began searching for hockey. IM LOOKING FOR A NEW MAN 2 TEASE, IF U HAVENT FIGURED IT OUT YET.

RELAX, I sent back. MY WIFE TEASES ME MORE THAN ENOUGH.

THERES ALWAYS ROOM FOR 1 MORE, LOL. I sighed. GOTTA GO. LUCAS IS COMING OUT OF THE BATHROOM. IM MAKING HIM TAKE ME HOME. IM DRUNK.

Only one thing to say; I repeated POOR BASTARD.

A crafty emoji came back. ILL MAKE IT UP 2 HIM. MIGHT LET HIM USE THE REINS. NIGHTY-NITE!

My wife showed up to save me a few minutes later. Our sex that night was surreal.

* * *

My next meeting with Crazy Gina happened after only another two days, and my wife was the setup woman. She called me late in the morning and told me that Gina's car had been towed. "I told her she could come eat dinner with us this evening, then I'd take her home."

"We're having her to dinner?" I was debugging a new process, and my listening skills were even worse than usual. Plus, I hated talking on the phone.

"She's freaking the fuck out. She forgot to take one of her meds this morning. I guess she parked in a handicapped spot, but didn't realize it because the guy in front of her had obscured the logo; I don't know. They towed him, too."

I frowned. "Can't Mike deal with this?" I mean, why get married if not to have someone to pick you up when your car gets towed? Seemed obvious to me.

"He's got to pick up their kids, and he's apparently super-pissed about it because he'll have to leave work early."

"Wah-wah." Kids came first in the Temple family; I'd long had the impression the Torreys did not feel that way. "He'll survive."

"No shit. Anyway, I just want her to be able to relax a little and have a nice evening."

"Cool. What's on the menu?"

"Well, that's the thing. We'll stop and pick something up on the way, but you need to make a salad and a side. Maybe plain rice; she doesn't like sauces."

"Huh." I hit enter a few times and watched to see what the screen would do. "So what the fuck am I supposed to put on the salad?"

"How should I know? Just think of something. I'll have my hands full with her." No argument there; I could imagine an unmedicated Gina Torrey after a bad day.

We had some regular old lettuce in the house, but I was well aware that when one is making a salad for Gina, one uses purple lettuce. So I used my lunch break to head out and pick up some frisee, endive, arugula, and other European-named produce, which I stuffed into the fridge at work. I figured that, plus some heirloom tomatoes from the backyard and a quick vinaigrette, would be all anyone could expect.

And so it was that I had my salad, colorfully arranged in a bowl we'd gotten as a wedding gift and almost never used, all ready to go as I saw my wife's car pull up outside. I'd even had to dust off the tongs. I tried not to be creepy as I glanced sideways out the living room window to see what Gina would be wearing as she climbed out of my wife's little Toyota.

No skirt today, apparently; I instead saw nice, tight dark pants, tucked into a pair of black boots. She stood up and straightened her top, indistinct underneath a long black cardigan. As always, she seemed nicely made up underneath large, trendy sunglasses. No twin braids today, just a long ponytail. She seemed fine, not like the raging lunatic I'd been half-expecting. I told my daughter Ella she and Jake would need to eat at the kids' table tonight. "Mommy's friend Gina is coming for dinner," I said, moving toward the front door.

"Aww! I want to eat at the big table with Auntie Gina!" I rolled my eyes, wondering when she'd joined the family.

"You guys will be fine," I insisted, dropping off their mac n' cheese on my way to the door. I opened it wide. "Hello!" I said brightly as the ladies came up the steps.

"Hi, sweetie."

"Mommy!" Two blurred shapes streaked past for their hugs, leaving me to turn toward a tired-looking Gina.

"Hi Gina," I said. "Sorry about your car." Her reaction there was weird: she shrugged, then winked at me.

"I think it'll all work itself out," she said, moving in; Gina had always been an exuberant hugger, and this time she went full-body, pressing herself against me. "Thanks for having me, Andy."

"No problem." My wife was still busy with the kids, so I held the hug maybe a little longer than I ought to have. She was firm and supple in my arms, rocking slightly, and I got another clear mental image of her wet pussy. "Always nice to see you."

"I know it is," she whispered in my ear as we released each other; her smile had, as it so often did, gone crafty. I could see now that her pants really were of an incredible and tempting tightness, her ass hidden by the loose cardigan... the cardigan which she now shrugged off and hung on the peg by the door. The kids were towing my wife into the house, so I stood there with nothing to do but look down at her body. I could see now that the top under the sweater was a tanktop, gold colored and spaghetti-strapped and very tight to her body; I could see her flat stomach, the indentation of her belly button, the lack of a bra. As she bent to put down her purse, the tanktop rode up to show a broad stripe of smooth flesh. She turned casually toward me and looked up at my face.

"It's a thong again," she told me quietly, "but not the same one." Another wink then, as she moved saucily into the house to hug the kids. I could tell I was in for a very rough night.

* * *

Or maybe not; everything actually went pretty well. The kids, distracted by Gina, handily ignored their parents until it was bedtime, the food tasted fine, and Gina even had kind words for my wine choice. "I'm flattered, Andy. You didn't break out the discount crap for me," she said with a broad grin as she poured my wife another glass.

"Well, come on now. After the day you've had, you deserve the good stuff." I was in a good mood, and gestured toward her hair. "No reins today?"

"Actually, a ponytail works just as well and still leaves one hand free for other things. Why? Did you have plans for me or something?" Her eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Shit, you two," my wife laughed. "Get a room already. What's with this obsession you two have for each other's hair?"

"Inside joke," Gina said mischievously. "Remember the night of parents night? Your 'perfect' husband was making comments about my hair."

"What? While you were waiting for me in the bathroom?"

"Oh, maybe; I don't remember." She was looking straight at me again. "At some point, anyway. I think it was more about the hair color and less about the hair style, Andy, wasn't it?"

Damn me, I was responding to her casually frank flirting. "I think so. Although, to be fair, I thought the style was just fine too." The crazy gleam was back in her eyes now.

"I'm thinking," she said slowly, with a deliberate glance at my wife's crotch, "that you don't see that style all that often."

"No ma'am." End this! screeched my brain. End this now! But I was feeling reckless, and my wife had no idea anyway. She was on her third glass of wine. "Not as often as I'd like." Gina's gaze back at me was smoldering, but my wife obliviously broke in.

"So how was your ride home with Lucas from the meeting the other night?" she asked cheekily. "Anything happen?"

"I'm a married woman," Gina replied with a prim tone and a less-than-prim wink. "Lucas knows that. Besides, work romances never, ever go as well as they should. And I don't shit where I eat." She took a deliberate bit of frisee. "Usually." I gulped.

My wife chuckled. "So, what, he just dropped you off and you said 'bye' and headed in?"

"Well, maybe not," Gina confessed, working her tongue around her small mouth to get the last of the salad off her teeth. "I'd tell you more, but I don't want your incorruptible husband to think I'm some kind of skank."

I blinked, and my wife made a dismissive gesture. "Please. He's heard my stories about you."

"Really." She looked over at me again. "So, Andy, do you think I'm a skank?"

I cracked an easy grin, sitting back and trying to be unobtrusive as I burrowed beneath the table to adjust my erection. I knew Gina would know what I was doing, but I found I didn't care. "I think you're a mild-mannered math teacher, a devoted wife and mother of two energetic children. I think you're a complicated and interesting woman." I nodded toward my wife. "At least, those are the stories I hear."

"Bullshit!" Gina was laughing uproariously, and my wife swirled the wine in her glass. "See, G? I told you he never listens to me. If he paid any attention to what I tell him about you, he'd look at you and see nothing but a superfreak."

"Oh, I'm not that bad," Gina said, rolling her eyes. "It's not like I made Lucas take me to some dark corner of the beach and fuck me up the ass or anything."

I snorted, and my wife patted Gina's hand. "Good. Shannon would kill you. She has a crush on him."

"I might have, umm, expressed my thanks for the ride," Gina continued slowly. "Like, with a little peck on the cheek. Or the lips."

"Or the cock." My wife was enjoying this, but then so were we.

"Would that be so bad?" Gina said innocently, raising her eyebrows. "He's a nice, handsome guy; I'm sure a blowjob is the least he deserves, but not from me. I've got standards."

"Bullshit," my wife said again.

"I do! And I work with him; I'm not going to suck his dick and then be able to sit in meetings with him. I'd just be picturing him naked," she said directly to me, making sure to let her words sink in. "I mean, once you've seen a guy's penis, well, things are never the same. Are they, Andy?" She looked expectantly at me.

"I wouldn't know," I replied diplomatically. "Looking at penises isn't one of my favorite hobbies."

"It's one of hers," my wife said, her face flushing now. Gina just kept staring seriously at me.

"No, but you know what I'm saying. Suppose you'd seen a woman's vagina. Like, say, mine."

"Why not? Everyone else has." My wife poured herself some more wine. We ignored her.

"Once you'd seen it, wouldn't it would change how you act around me? Like, you wouldn't be able to talk to me again without picturing it. Every time. Because, like, you know it's there, hiding beneath my pants and my underwear, looking just like you remember it." She took another sip of wine. "That's how I feel once I've seen a guy's dick." Again, she let me digest the words, but this time she turned toward my wife with a brittle smile. "Lucas is a hottie, but that's a distraction I don't need. I could never blow a guy I saw every day at work."

"But you said you kissed him?" I asked quietly. "Don't you just think about his lips? How they felt and tasted?"

"No," Gina sighed, looking upward in thought. "For me, a kiss is different. I know a lot of people think of a kiss as this really, really intimate moment, but I've never really felt that way. To me, a kiss is just something nice that friends do." She shrugged. "Hell, I'd give you a kiss right now, Andy, and I don't even know you that well."

"You stay away from my man!" my wife said in mock seriousness.

"It's nothing more than I did with Lucas." She was getting up from the table now and coming around toward me, again with that unconscious sexy slink. "He's got a girlfriend and I've got a husband, and I still gave him a kiss. It meant less than you think." She stopped right next to me; I could feel her body heat as I looked up at her. "How's about it, Andy?" she asked. "Want a little smooch?"

I was very, very aware that my wife would not be pleased if I said yes. "Well, with immense regret," I told Gina, "I'm going to have to decline your generous offer. I've got herpes." My wife shrieked with laughter; Gina arched an eyebrow. "Yeah. Really, really bad case." She smiled indulgently and patted me on the cheek with her sweaty hand.

"That's a nice husband you've got there, bitch," she laughed to my wife.

"Hell yeah!" came the reply as she drained her fourth glass. "If the positions were reversed, Mike would be all over me."

"No doubt." Gina smiled down at me, her fingers trailing off my face, but she didn't move to sit down. I was keenly aware that her vagina was right beside my face in its tight pants; she'd been right to say it was all I could think about. "Well, Temples, this has been a delight," she said brightly, "but if I can get you to drive me home, it might be that time. Mike's probably murdered one of the boys by this time, so I guess I should go home and report it. My dear?" She extended her hand toward my wife, and I saw at once how she'd maneuvered this. My dick gave a small twitch.

"Shit, Gina, she can't drive you anyplace," I said quickly. "Just look at her." Still giggling over the idea of Mike necking with her, my wife was quaking in her chair. "She'll be lucky if she's sober by the time she needs to go in tomorrow."

"Huh," Gina said noncommittally. "Well, then I'll just have to borrow you. Unless you want me to sleep over," she said, making sure my wife wasn't looking as she winked again. "I think that'd be fun."

I gave my wife a one-armed hug and got to my feet. "I'll take her home, hon. Don't wait up."

"Thanks for coming, bitch!" My wife struggled to her feet and gave her friend a fierce hug. Gina reached around to squeeze her ass.

"I'll get your man home to you soon," she promised, and then she shocked us both by giving my wife a loud, open-mouthed kiss. "See? No biggie," she chuckled, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. She then turned to me and offered her hand. "I guess it's just you and me, Andy," she said with that secret smile of hers. "I'll put myself in your capable hands."

"Sure thing," I replied, feeling a little foolish as I took her hand and led her toward the door. "Hon, do you need anything while I'm out?"

"Nope." She was draining the bottle now. "You two kids have fun now!"

"See you tomorrow, bitch," Gina said breezily as she followed me. She was squeezing my hand tightly, her palm hot and vibrant. As we got to the door, she held me up so that she could grab her cardigan. "Can't go forgetting my modesty, now," she whispered to me, once again taking my hand. "Shall we?"

"Apres vous," I replied with a smile, opening the door as she passed me. She glanced knowingly at me as she did so.

"You just want to look at my butt," she observed quietly. We were outside now, the car waiting in the driveway. "Feel free, by the way. A woman wears pants like this, she knows what she'll get from you men." She bent playfully at the waist, right there on my porch, and presented her rounded ass. "You've seen this view before. Let me know when you're done."

"Nice." We were far, far past the point of pretending now. Holding my breath, I reached down and gave her muscular right cheek a firm squeeze. She gasped and looked mischievously back at me. "What?" I asked, matching her innocent look from earlier. "You're the one who wanted to kiss me."

"Yes," she said, walking toward the car. "And you wanted me to." She reached the car and leaned against the driver's door, looking quickly at the house to see whether my wife was looking out the window. "Mrs Temple's not here to stop me now," she mocked.

We'd been calling her "Crazy Gina" for a long time, but until now I'd never had to think about what that really meant. This girl was volatile and dangerous; not physically, but psychologically. I knew exactly what I was getting into, letting her come on to me.

But I didn't stop myself; it was almost with satisfaction that I moved up to her, right there in my own driveway while my wife did the dishes inside, and sent my arms sliding around her tiny waist, which was already in slight, sinuous motion. Her head barely came to my chest; she was peering up at me, neck extended, her arms twisting around my neck as she offered her narrow, bright red lips. It had been many, many years since I'd kissed anyone other than my wife, but I had a pretty good idea what to expect: Gina would be aggressive and voracious, generous with her tongue and her hands.

I wasn't disappointed. I got a flash impression of her wet lips and winy breath before we engulfed each other, panting, her tongue coiling out into my mouth without any delay. She moaned, letting herself be crushed between my body and the car, her hands moving down my back. She was warm and passionate from the start, with nothing tentative about what she was doing as her lips surged rhythmically against mine.

This went on far, far longer than was prudent; at one point, I opened my eyes and glanced at her face, only to see her eyes wide open and staring back toward the house. From here, I knew she'd be able to see the shadow of my wife moving through the kitchen through the windows, and I assumed that must be what was going on.

The string of saliva that connected us held on for a good six inches or so as our heads finally came apart. Her small, nimble hands were digging into the back of my pants by then, and we both grinned stupidly. She breathed hard against me. "See?" she said, low and sexy in my ear. "Just something nice that friends do." Without even thinking about it, I'd started feeling her up: both my hands clutched at her petite frame underneath her armpits, my thumbs pressing at her tiny boobs. "We should probably drive away now," she muttered, with a quick nip at my earlobe. "Wouldn't want Audrey to wonder why the car hadn't started yet."

"Good point." She slithered out from in front of me, not without one final squeeze where her fingernails met the top of my bare ass, and skipped around the back of the car while I, shaken, opened up the driver's door. I was already seatbelted before her lithe form crawled into the car, her wild eyes fixed on me. "Where to?"

"Where do you want to go?" She leaned over to kiss my ear again before she reached up for her seatbelt. "I mean, I'd suggest we go to a park someplace and make out, except that we're not adolescents. But we certainly can't go back to my house, and I'm not about to leave you like you are." She'd obviously felt my erection pressing against her while we kissed, and now she reached her small hand over to tweak it through my jeans. "Poor thing."

"It's your fault," I reminded her. I was feeling giddy now; funny that she'd mentioned adolescents, since that was exactly what I was feeling like. "Mentioning your 'hairstyle' got me going."

"Mm, I could tell." She did not move her hand. "And what I said, about not being able to look the same way at a man whose dick I've seen? That was meant for you." She squeezed me. "I want to get a closer look, live and in person. Is that so wrong?

"Hell yes it is. Are you always like this when you're off your meds?"

She made a dismissive gesture. "I didn't miss my meds. That's just what I told Aud. Shit, Andy, if I didn't take my meds I'd be huddled in a corner of my basement, hollering at my dead relatives." She tossed her hair back. "I'm quite lucid, thanks."