Faint: Ch. 01

Prologue

Jessica

I masturbate at least twice after he leaves, replaying his words in my mind. I don't know about most women, but for me that's the norm. If they were even in earshot of the stories he tells me, however, I wonder if they might match my own enthusiasm for the activity. Some would likely surpass that repetition if they're the type of girl that I am, or if they have a neighbor like Alex.

I know that Alex sees what he does to me with his stories, his confessions, but I don't think that my husband has much of a clue as to what is really happening in our kitchen on those mornings. Dale seems too wrapped up in his own thoughts to notice the hours I spend with my thighs tightly wrapped around my petite little fingers during and after those sessions.

I wonder if Dale appreciates how much of a benefit my coffee time with Alex has given our own sex life, or if he just thinks I'm extraordinarily hot and cold depending on the day of the week. I think that he has at least some idea as to why I jump on him every night after, but asking him seems like a bad idea.

Dale doesn't give the impression that he cares much about my conversations with Alex Faint, no matter how long they last. I hesitate to predict whether he'd be concerned about the times I've opened my robe, my thighs, my mouth for Alex to see and enjoy.

I wonder what Dale would think if he managed to catch me with my feet braced on either side of Alex's chair, my knees spread wide, my fingers diddling my little pussy as he tells me a story of sins perpetrated the evening before. What would he think as he watched me writhing under Alex's gaze, hanging on his every word, my tits heaving as I came again and again for my tale teller? Perish the thought.

Alex wouldn't fuck me before today, no matter what I've tried. Begging does nothing. Temptation has done even less. That never stopped me from giving myself orgasm after orgasm as he watched, him sometimes allowing me to rub the ball and arch of my tiny foot up and down the length of his obvious erection restrained only by the material of his slacks, usually linen.

I've felt his cock jerk as he his own orgasm, but he's seldom let me keep going with the meandering of my little toes. For the most part, I think he loves only to watch and play a bit.

I do love to cum that way, though, with his eyes on me and his breath hastening as he staves of his own climax. Such control, for the most part.

He's only let me see it twice. Both times were when Dale was home, working in his little wood shop, and we knew that he could come into the kitchen at any time.

Both times he had me strip my robe completely off and let it puddle beneath me as I filled my cunt with the fingers of one hand and my ass with the fingers of the other. Both times he had me kneel in front of him with my mouth open and my tongue flailing at the underside of his cock head. Both times he filled my mouth with his delicious cum, stroking that beautiful cock until every last drop coated my teeth and soon disappeared down my throat.

"Don't wrap your lips around it, slut," he whispered to me, "Take what I give you."

I always do what he tells me to, but he never told me what I could, or couldn't do with my tongue. Only my lips.

The first time was nearly a year ago and it was so hot that I've orgasmed over and over while riding my husband's cock (not like Alex's by any means, but not unimpressive) and gritting my teeth so that I wouldn't scream the wrong name. The thought of it always puts me over the edge.

The second time was this morning and was far more in depth; and much more fun.

Can you see why I'm in such a state? Can you imagine how it looked? I was down on my knees, kneeling on my kitchen floor like a wanton slut as he stood above me stroking his cock into my mouth, his chest heaving, me wrapping my tongue against his glans as I fingered both of my holes, dribbling a pool of cum beneath my kneeling form. I could go off again just thinking about it.

This kind of thing only happens when he's told me a particularly exciting and incredibly naughty story. I mean, they're always dirty and definitely exciting, but this one...

Alex is never one to pass up a chance at having a little fun. He might be slightly more successful if he had possession of such an ability as to avoid a good time, but he considers it an even trade. Success isn't all about power and position, anyway. Alex likes sex. He would take that over money any day of the week.

One of his greatest joys in each day of the past two years has become the arrangement he has with his neighbor's wife, yours truly. He does love to play with me over coffee, but I think he more enjoys talking with my husband just before and after our little sessions.

He stands in the doorway of Dale's shop for a few minutes to see how he's doing, or if he needs help with anything. Since Alex has always been my guest, Dale doesn't take much initiative toward involvement with him. Dale hasn't ever mentioned any objection to our little coffee time, even encourages it. I can safely say that my husband has much enjoyed the later advantages of our morning talks.

Don't get me wrong. I don't think for a second that Dale suspects anything actually happens, but I do think he believes that I have a little crush on Alex and that seeing him in the morning makes me susceptible to his own needs. And he's right, in a sense.

The first time I came with my painted toes pressed against Alex's cock was the first night I ever let Dale fuck my face until he squirted down my throat. I remember the way he looked at me after he came. It was like I'd given him a present. I nearly laughed at the irony of it, but managed to hold back.

This morning started in the same fashion as most mornings. I was in my robe, no panties or bra underneath, the downy fabric caressing my hardened nipples with each movement. It was around seven and Dale was already at it in the garage while I woke up a little at a time. I knew he'd be leaving for the office at around 8:30. He's a creature of habit, my Dale, and he's punctual to a fault.

Alex would be showing up soon to have a cup of coffee and a chat, which always started out my day just right. When I saw him walk through the gate that separated our yards, I knew that everything was on schedule and I took a moment to admire my naughty neighbor.

His sandy brown hair fell in a perfect part, framing a well-tanned and smiling face. Striking green eyes flashed in the sunlight. His dress was the usual: V-neck tee hanging loosely on his well-toned frame, stylishly relaxed fit linen slacks that couldn't hide his cock even if he did take the initiative to wear anything underneath, and comfortable looking, but obviously expensive, leather shoes due to the fact of today being a work day. He wore flip-flops after work and on weekends.

I love the way he dresses, so casual and yet you wouldn't see tags on any of his clothing. The only brand recognition would be discreetly sewn patches, nearly hidden, to designate the tailor who'd fabricated the wear.

I watched, clutching the lapel of my robe, my fingertips dabbling into my ample cleavage for a stroke, as Alex leaned into the doorway of my husband's workshop. The door was open, as it almost always was, and Alex entered with eyebrows raised and a smile forming. I couldn't help but notice that he didn't look toward the kitchen window.

I busied myself for the few minutes that the men would spend talking by making a fresh pot of coffee (we actually did drink a cup or two in the midst of our play, normally) and setting a clean mug in front of Alex's usual chair. He liked to be able to see out of the window for discretion's sake. I kept glancing toward them through the partly open blinds that hid the kitchen casement. My pussy was dripping wet as I set the sugar bowl between our two cups. I was nearing an orgasm without even touching myself, as my thighs seemed to be rubbing in just the right way.

Alex couldn't know it, but I'd taken the time to have a wax the afternoon before. My legs, pussy, asshole, and perineum were all silky smooth and bare to anyone who might look or... touch. I couldn't wait to slide my fingers along my smooth, swollen, lips for him. I couldn't wait to see him watching me.

I poured coffee into both cups and was stirring sugar into mine when I heard his polite knock. He waited for me to answer, as he always does.

I stood, on already trembling legs, and walked toward the door. I set the coffee pot on the counter, a French press model that some inexplicable friend had sent to us as a wedding gift, before reaching for the door knob. As it opened he smiled in at me, dimples framing his full pink lips, and all that I could do in my frazzled state was smile back and stand to the side. As he entered, he discreetly slid his fingers between the fold of my robe and caressed my extremely wet pussy with the tips.

"Morning Jessica," he said, one of his eyebrows raising slightly as he explored his surprise. He slipped his middle finger up and down my slit, gathering wetness near my clit and flicking it lightly.

"Good morning," I whispered, huskily, as he explored me, using two fingers to pinch my engorged clitty. When he pulled his hand away I nearly screamed in frustration.

I closed the door, quickly, giving him a sexy smile, one laced with aggravation at the fact that he'd stopped his caresses. I padded over to my seat as he arranged himself at the table, letting the lapel of my robe slide down one shoulder. He looked at me for a moment in the way he has. It's almost as if he's deciding whether to eat me when he looks at me like that.

"Loosen your robe," he ordered as he stirred two spoons of sugar into his coffee, "I want to see what I just felt."

He was barely glancing at me when he said it. Alex knew that I would do as I was told. I pulled the knot from my belt, letting the garment fall open and away from my smooth tan skin. It clung to my shoulders, creating a strangely erotic border between being clothed and nude.

My body isn't perfect at forty-one, but I counter my slightly rounded curves with well-tanned skin and heavy breasts. My belly is flat, not toned by the gym, but where it leads is so perfect and sexy that no man will ever tell me that I'm not beautiful. I could see that Alex was happy with my grooming when I spread my long legs a bit, accenting my calves by raising my feet up to tip toes. His eyes were now locked on all of me.

"Do you like it?" I asked as my fingers began to glide up and down my inner thighs.

"Absolutely."

I watched as he watched. I could see the bulge of his cock, so big and so hard, pressing against his pants. I tentatively raised my size-six foot from the floor, the left one because it was closest to where his cock lay pulsing with obvious need, and ran my toes up from his inner calf to his knee.

I kept going, sliding the outside edge of my foot along his inner thigh, spreading my right leg farther out and straightening my left knee. My pussy was nearly on fire at the moment my toes touched his erection and I enjoyed a very small orgasm right then.

I looked up at his face and saw that he was taking a sip of coffee and watching my eyes as I pressed the whole length of my foot against his manhood. I couldn't stop myself, my fingers slipping between my thighs to rub and caress my glistening pussy lips, as I curled my toes along the shape of him.

"Are you going to tell me?" I asked him.

Alex gave me an amused smile, showing more interest than was usual in my caresses.

"Do you want to hear?"

I could only smile at him with half lidded eyes as my toes traced the bulge against his thigh.

"Tell me," I demanded.

"Take it off," he said, leaning back to watch me.

My eyes went to the window, surveying where my husband was during that moment. I let my robe fall from my shoulders, revealing my incredibly hard nipples and everything else. I pinched my clit lightly as he began to tell.

Chapter 1

Alex

The door to my office was cracked open when I arrived. It was around nine-thirty and Colleen, my lovely and talented assistant, had already been hard at work for hours. I'm fairly sure that she sleeps, but for the life of me I couldn't tell you when.

She smiled at me in her usual flushed way and said nothing as I entered the room. She was thoroughly involved in pleasuring a distinguished looking business man leaned back in her office chair. She was on her knees, back arched, her pencil skirt clad ass on prominent display. Her small hands were floating along the flesh of his moderately thick erection in the sexiest way as he moaned quietly. He could barely do more than that with Colleen on the job, I promise you.

I leaned against the inner office doorway to watch. I didn't think I'd have to worry about a client walking in. This likely was my next client and I'd only be waiting without entertainment, otherwise.

Colleen locked eyes with me as she sunk her lips slowly down the length of his cock. One of her hands remained at the base of his shaft, applying pressure to control how long she'd be playing and how much of a reward she would catch at the end. Her free hand reached toward me, her fingers making a grasping motion as her lips slowly raised from the middle of him up to the crown. She was watching me the entire time.

I grinned, shaking my head in the side-to-side. There was no way in Hell that I'd be getting in on this one. She smiled at me, her lips parting to show her teeth as they grazed the tip of him. My next client moaned in frustrated pleasure as she quietly snapped the fingers of her grasping hand in that Oh well. Can't blame me for trying gesture.

She impressed both me and, probably even more so, the man she was toying with in the next few seconds. She loosened her grip at the base of his cock, her hand grasping his balls, shoved her lips down on him to the base, pulled all the way back, and took it to the hilt again. She did this twice more and then held his shaft deep in her throat as he muffled a scream, gripping the arms of the chair for dear life. I could see her throat working around him, swallowing her conquest almost effortlessly. I knew how good it felt to be him at that moment.

Colleen continued to play with her new friend for a few moments, sliding her mouth from base to tip, staring at me with her lips wrapped around the tip of his fading erection, sucking softly to be sure she'd gotten every last drop of his seed. I squeezed my bulge as she looked, showing her my appreciation of her performance. She smiled around his cock once more, before releasing him.

My secretary stood. She straightened her skirt and buttoned her shirt over small, but beautiful breasts. She quickly fixed her hair, pulling stray locks into her neatly styled bun, setting the velvety blonde mane back to order. In seconds, she looked as if she'd never been on her knees milking cum from a bulbous and veiny erection. I chuckled at her nonchalant manner.

I continued to watch them, now even more entertained as the client tried to gather himself, tucking his now limp member into his fly. I nearly laughed when Colleen thanked him and offered coffee as if she'd simply received a piece of paperwork from the man. He refused the drink, but took the time to stare at her magnificent legs as he straightened his tie.

"If that's all, then," she said, "Mr. Faint, if you're ready, your 9:45 is here."

I had to do it. I looked up at the wall clock above the main office entrance and laughed. It seemed to unsettle my 9:45, but it actually was 9:45 on the dot.

***

I let him stammer for a few minutes as I sat on my side of the desk, a fresh mug of Colleen's excellent coffee steaming in front of me. I think he might have been apologizing for his behavior, but I really wasn't paying enough attention to say for sure. I pulled out of my own thoughts, chiefly those of Colleen's ass, and listened to him for a moment to confirm my suspicion. He was apologizing.

"Mr. McCormick," I finally cut in, "A catholic priest in a room full of crucifixes with Jesus Christ waiting in the confession booth couldn't resist an advance from Colleen. She's... persistent. No apology is necessary in any way, shape, or form."

"Persistent," he repeated, "That's one way to describe her."

He relaxed a bit at that.

"Can I ask you one question, Mr. Faint?"

"Only if you'll call me 'Alex'."

"Then I'm Edward, Alex."

"Good for me," I agreed, "What's your question, Edward?"

"Where did you find an assistant like that one?"

"I actually found her while speaking at a P.I. Conference on how to catch the bad ole' cheating spouse."

He looked dumbfounded, his brow furrowing, "They have those?"

"They do. She was looking into possibly getting a license to become such an animal, but I convinced her that she'd do a more noble service working for me," I smiled my winner smile for him, "Luckily, she took my word for it."

"Amazing."

"She is, yes. This place would be in ruins without her."

"Is she married? I noticed a ring."

It was my turn to furrow a brow. Thinking of the white gold and diamonds that adorned Colleen's left ring finger as it flashed in the sunlight while she was stroking me for the first time, I tilted my head to the side and looked at him quizzically.

"Does it really matter, Edward?"

***

It only took a few minutes for Edward McCormick, who spent his nine-to-five supervising an overly prestigious investment firm in Tampa and his off hours at a tastefully humongous home on Clearwater Beach, to inform me of his needs as a client.

He wanted complete secrecy (implied by the fact that he'd come to me in the first place), quick results (doesn't everyone hope for quick results?), and to have his wife of seventeen years convinced that an open mind to an open relationship would be a much more interesting way to live (fun with some sort of catch for Mr. McCormick).

"Edward, who is it that referred you to me? I only ask for my own curious contemplation."

"A mutual friend of ours," he answered, relaxing more with each passing moment.

"This friend, whomever it may be, outlined my services, my fees, my policy?"

I held his gaze for a moment, waiting for a reply. I leaned back in my necessarily comfortable office chair. This was a dance I'd gone through many times. Though I knew how it would play out, it was a waltz that had to be stepped.

"He did. He also told me that you're very good at what you do."

"I am," I nodded, "but you need to seriously consider this. The words on my office door say 'Faint Investigation and Consultation' which implies that I'm a standard P.I. and, at times, that is exactly what I am. For situations like yours I take on a different set of tasks that could be frowned upon by the licensing board. Due to this, discretion on both our parts is an absolute requirement."

McCormick gave a nod and a look of agreement.

"Also, Edward, I want you to realize that I won't, in fact can't, make anyone do anything against their will. I can try to convince your wife that she would be much happier unleashed from the chains of monogamy, but I guarantee nothing. In fact, if your wife..." I trailed off, lilting the last word into a question.

"Michelle."

"If Michelle isn't open to the idea in any way, there will be no results. My fee will still be charged and I will still expect discretion. On the flip side of that, Michelle may enjoy her new lifestyle a bit more than you would guess, leaving you to wonder if you've made the right decision. She might, in all actuality, embrace the idea much more than you would have thought.

"In either case, no action will be taken against me. No slander shall be committed. This is all in the contract that Colleen will have you sign before you leave, but I like to keep things out in the open."