Games Night

(Or Zehra Learns To Play Nice)

[Author's Notes: Before diving into this rather long story I feel I should give you a heads-up for the kinks so you can decide whether this is your jam or not: this is a cheating girlfriend story where BOTH cheaters are initially resistant to cheating, but their mutual lust for each other wins through and they cheat anyway. There are no repercussions for their actions - the story ends with the boyfriend oblivious to the cheating. Also the sex is deliberately over the top: great artistic licence is taken in terms of realistic biology (like guys cuming pints, and shit like that). So if that's all right up your alley, then read on!]

Sprawling across the northeastern coastline of the UK like a woman recovering from the best cum of her life is the city of Coytoss; fourth largest on the isle and for many an urban nightmare of conflicting British history. Post-war council estates bleed into post-millennium bachelor pads and sprawling fintech offices surrounded by carefully manicured lawns; while on the other side of the fence dilapidated steelworks speak of times long past - their walls covered in graffiti, their words speaking of sinful unions between denizens of this sordid city.

Words aplenty, for Coytoss is a most devilish place for one to call home. Not for those of strong moral character or reservations, for Coytoss, and the county of Eroshire within which it resides, is known of throughout the UK as a city of lust; of carnal delights and desires allowed to be made manifest to the detriment of relationships (although only if those who allow their desires to rule their needs are sloppy, and there are many living in Coytoss who are experienced in keeping those they love from finding out about the someone extra they have on the side, and plenty more who have taken a third option, and a fourth, and fifth...) A city where there are no sins, only the meeting of desires, the meetings of the flesh, of lust, of want and need!

It is said that there is something in the air, or maybe in the water, that makes the residents of the county horny as fuck; the women insatiable, and the men indefatigable.

No surprise, some say, considering the name of the city...

...which is not entirely inaccurate. For the city known these days as Coytoss is relatively young; not built upon old Roman fortresses like many, but rather born from the old shipyard industry of the 1800's; beginning modestly as the small town of Cotshire when the first shipyards were built. After which the people came seeking work, and the town grew in size; eventually luring those of great wealth, who quickly bought up vast amounts of the land around the town for their own means. One of these individuals, Frances Kent, took a great dislike to the name 'Cotshire', and demanded that a new name be given to the burgeoning city, one befitting a future great dock of the British Empire.

Many suggestions were made by rich peers, but it was the one from the eccentric Maximillian Miller that was taken up by his many friends amongst the Eroshire elite, and soon was adopted as the name of the city. When he was asked Miller explained that 'Coytoss' was a reference to the ancient Saxon game of Coy Tossing; where a ball made of spare yarn would be kept aloft by two teams of five armed with sticks. Eventually it would be proven by historians that no such game ever existed, and in fact Miller, a renowned sex addict who frequently held great orgies in his mansion, had simply decided to name the city after the act he most enjoyed in life.

At this point Kent had been using the name for years, and found himself quite embarrassed by the whole affair, rigidly upholding the 'Coy Tossing' fabrication long after it had been debunked, rather than admit the man he disliked had managed to score a point over him by convincing him to name a city after sex (this was, you see, during the Victorian era, where a woman's bare ankles were considered the very height of debauchery).

Today a statue stands at the centre of Coytoss depicting Maximillian Miller in all his drunken glory, and to the people of the city the man is no less a fucking god (and was, so historians insist, a god of fucking as well).

Around the busy square where Maximillian Miller is captured, mid-stagger, in metal faded by the elements, there are many expensive properties, afforded by those fortunate enough to have high-paying jobs in the city. Zehra Sydin's boyfriend, Adrian Foster, is one such individual, and tonight she stands on the balcony of his flat looking over the square, cheekily having one last cigarette, as the cool night breeze plays with her long dark hair; it blows gently over her tanned skin - so dark as to be almost Mediterranean brown, revealing her Turkish heritage despite being born only a few miles away, in Coytoss Central Hospital almost twenty-eight years ago.

Placing the cigarette between two full lips, Zehra took a drag, exhaling the smoke out into the night air, as her large dark green eyes regarded the traffic below; currently at a standstill thanks to some roadworks blocking almost every exit from the junction. Something about the water. An average Thursday evening for Miller's Madness (or Miller's Meeting, as the junction was actually named); one of the reasons why Zehra could enjoy her current extended stay at her boyfriend's flat: the view from Adrian's balcony was fantastic, and the entertainment afforded by city traffic even more so!

Normally she was one to feel the cold, especially in a UK winter, but tonight was strangely hot for a mid-February evening (16C, according to her phone), and the heat from all the cars down below meant Zehra wasn't feeling chilly despite the low-cut top she was wearing; revealing a great portion of her large breasts, held back by the sports bra she still wore from some home workout (or rather 'boyfriend's-pad-workout') a few hours earlier; as well as most of her arms from the shoulders down, her skin covered in a web of intricate tattoos depicting all manner of mythological creatures; ending finally with a sizeable amount of toned stomach that showed off her dedication to working out as much as she could despite not having the money for the gym.

Having a nicer set of abs than your boyfriend was somewhat amusing, but Adrian's body wasn't what Zehra loved about him (although he *did* have a nice body).

"Hey babe!" Speak of the devil: Zehra hadn't heard Adrian approach and was surprised to hear his voice a moment before he kissed her on the cheek, but she hid it well as she turned around to face him, placing her back to the motorised chaos down below. "Are you not cold out here?"

"No, strange enough," she replied, her voice deep and husky; something that she was always a little self-conscious about. "It's warm tonight, ain't it?"

As he laid his hands on her hips, standing close to her, Adrian frowned at the night's sky, as if he was measuring the temperature around them with some kind of extra-sensory skill. "Guess," he said after a moment. "Then again I don't feel the temperature as easily as you do."

"I'm not that bad," she said, smiling at his good-natured ribbing. "You're the one that's got his hoodie on with the heating turned up. I came out here for a little fresh air from the sauna inside; are you trying to cook us tonight or something?"

"Hmm... nah, I think you're hot enough."

She rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless as she kissed him again.

"What's this?" Adrian said, giving the cigarette still clutched between two slender fingers a tug, while his smile told her he knew exactly what it was; this was an old point between them.

Tapping her cigarette on the railings, sending glowing ash falling to the pavement below them, Zehra regarded him with a cool look. "Well if maybe a certain someone didn't ban smoking in his place I wouldn't have to come out here, would I?"

"You could give up," Adrian said, not for the first time since they started dating.

"I have an addictive personality, Ade," Zehra said, smiling at how they were retreading an old conversation once again. "If it's not a cigarette it would be..."

"Yeah, OK," Adrian said, having the good grace to look a little uncomfortable at her reminder of her past. Though not because of what she had done as a teen, but more because he had caused her to mention it. "I'm sorry Zee, but I want to keep my place smoke-free. Although if you really don't like coming out here-"

"You kidding? With this going on?" She said, jerking her thumb behind her. "This is the best shit going on in the city right now. You missed an epic bust-up earlier: some guy in a white van got out and beat the shit out of the driver of a Prius."

"Shit... you should have called me!" Adrian looked over her shoulder at the vehicles still held in a perpetual crawl in the Madness. "This has been the best entertainment this past week."

"Oh really?" Zehra said, her tone of voice encouraging him to remember that she had started living with him just over a week ago.

He caught the hint: returning his eyes to her, Adrian smiled. Caressing her bare hips. "Maybe not the *best*... maybe second best..."

"Better..." Zehra said, before kissing him. That kiss didn't end quickly like the last one, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, digging deep with her tongue as she felt his hands work their way down. She broke off, smiling: "Ade..."

"You said you're comfortable out here," he said, returning that smile with one full of promises of mischief.

"Logan's going to be here in a moment..."

"He's running a little late," Adrian said, in between running his along her jawline, slowly down her neck as his hands slipped between her sport shorts, panties and her smooth skin (all shaved down there; which Zehra preferred as the hair down there would otherwise be as thick as on her head, and as plentiful). "Stuck in traffic. We've got a half hour, I reckon... plenty of time..."

"But Ade... people can see..." Zehra said, not caring in the slightest if anyone else could see her have sex with her boyfriend. Although there were a few other balconies with line of sight to this one no one was out enjoying the evening like they were, and the balcony railings would stop any pedestrians or drivers below from seeing if they fucked were they were...

So why the fuck not?

Zehra responded: slipping her hands into her boyfriend's jeans to find his gorgeous eight inch monster of a cock. Quickly she built up a rhythm; stroking his thick shaft as he slipped his finger into her while his thumb played with her clit.

"What about the people?" Adrian whispered in her ear as he kissed her jaw.

"Let them watch," Zehra whispered back.

For a good five minutes or so their hands were busy: jerking each other off while the horns of the traffic below drowned out their soft moans of pleasure. Then Adrian unbuttoned his jeans as he pulled out his cock.

"Slow down there!" Zehra said, bemused. "Unless you've got a-"

Adrian pulled out a sealed condom packet from a jeans pocket.

"-and you do," Zehra finished, looking at it with increased amusement before regarding Adrian with a smirk. "Since when did you start keeping spare condoms in your pockets?"

"Since the other night when we told each other about our exes after a few pints," Adrian said. "I kept thinking about those guys you fucked in public."

"Want a little risk in our sex?" Zehra said. She remembered that night clearly: a few pints into the evening down at their local, the Lusty Avon Maiden, and they began spilling the beans on all the previous people they had fucked (and where, in a few cases). Adrian's exes had all been fairly tame: smart, educated women from uni and his first few jobs, who enjoyed missionary (and the occasional cowgirl), and didn't take more than the first few inches when they blew him.

Zehra, on the other hand, had revealed a much lengthier sexual history, and Adrian had sat in bemused silence, growing increasingly hornier, as she told him about one sexual escapade after another; regailing stories of fucking in the kitchen at her first job at McDonald's after they had closed to the public, where her manager had filled her with his cum on one table after another; or going down on a guy in the ticket booth at Coytoss Main Street train station, swallowing thick cum as the poor guy tried to serve his oblivious customers.

It went on for a good half hour, before Adrian silently guided her into the unisex toilets of the pub (the landlord refused to recognise gender), and then proceeded to fuck her harder than he had up that point in their relationship, much to Zehra's delight and eventual incredible cum. His arms had held her own as his cock hammered her ass to the cubical wall. They burned through several condoms before the landlord kicked them out.

All in all some great fucking, and that night had really lit a fire in Adrian that still burned. She hadn't expected him to react the way he did, and Zehra was really enjoying how her boyfriend embraced her slutty past, using it as fuel to inspire their sex. So unlike several previous guys she had dated; though it wasn't the only way Adrian was better than a lot of them.

He was bigger than a few of them, for a start: his cock quickly pushed all the way inside of her once he got the condom on. Zehra gasped as she felt his length push all the way in until the head pressed against her cervix (somehow, despite their different lengths, Zehra always felt a cock tip against her cervix when having sex with a guy; but then she got a D- in biology so what the fuck did she know?)

Holding tightly around his neck, Zehra felt her ass pound against the balcony as Adrian soon began thrusting with speed and vigour. He hadn't always been so, but Zehra had quickly shown him how she enjoyed to be fucked, and in turn he had taught her how intense sex could be with a little intimacy: as he fucked her against the balcony Adrian held her eyes with his own, their lips barely an inch apart. She loved his eyes: dark brown and full of understanding. So different to a lot of the men she had been in relationships with before. How the hell a girl like her managed to get a guy like Adrian she would never understand, but he really seemed to dig her; Zehra knew not to let a little thing like him refusing to let her smoke inside his flat disturb their vibe.

It was a good forty minutes before Adrian pulled out, and in the meantime their sex had seen them move from position to position, from the balcony to the deckchairs beside the railings, to the smooth fau-tiled surface of the balcony itself, to finally indoors where they hammered it out for a good ten minutes on the plush sofa in front of the huge TV. Zehra had cum several times; Adrian had cum only once. Zehra watched him pull the condom off, smiling with a strange sort of pride at how much her boyfriend had managed to pump into it. For such a nerd Adrian could definitely pump a huge load!

Post-nut clarity was a real bitch, as Zehra found herself unable to return to an old grievance of hers as the bliss of a good fuck wore off. "So... how come Logan gets to vape in here?"

"That's because vaping's different!" Adrian said, after flushing the bloated condom down the loo, becoming visibly uncomfortable with this old argument; namely him letting his best friend of some twenty-odd years, Logan Evans, get away with almost anything the other man asked for every time he came over on Thursday evening for a night of gaming with Adrian. "It's erm... better for you..." His voice trailed off as he observed Zehra's face.

"Yeah that's bullshit, Ade: everyone these days says vaping is just as bad for your health," she said.

Adrian walked over to where she was hurriedly dressing on the sofa. "As much as I love your breath after you smoke, Zee..." he said, in that infuriatingly charming way of his, kissing her on the lips to prove his point. "I would like you to give up smoking."

"And I would like you to stop inviting that asshole round all the time!"

She regretted saying that almost immediately. Fortunately Adrian had come to know that she was the type to speak before thinking, and often allowed her temper to dictate what came out of her mouth. Adrian was the calmest man she had known, which made her even more thankful that he was in a relationship with her. Otherwise she would probably be with yet another guy with just as short a temper as her, like most of her previous boyfriends.

He sighed, smiling sweetly and stroking strands of dark brown hair away from her face. "Zee, I've known Logan since we were in infant school together. He's been my best friend for twenty odd years. He's been there for me through thick and thin. I've lost count of the number of times he's had my back. I wish you two would get along!"

Adrian then looked at her with his large brown puppy-dog eyes.

Zehra found her stubbornness (of which she normally had a lot of) melting away.

Damn him.

"Yeah... well... he's an asshole," she did manage to say, though not while looking at Adrian; she couldn't remain stubborn with him when he put on that face; one of many reasons why she loved Adrian more than any previous boyfriend. Zehra didn't like her stubbornness, for it reminded her of her mother; the two of them didn't have the best of parent/child relationships.

Zehra would admit, perhaps only to her therapist (if she could afford one), that she had anger issues; stubbornness, of course; and a somewhat abrasive attitude. It made keeping guys a little difficult: before she met Adrian she had cycled through eighteen boyfriends in half as many months, for example. It wasn't entirely her fault: her mother was like it too, and her father no better (which is why her parents had divorced some ten years ago). As much as Zehra wished she didn't take on the family history of being an ass, she couldn't help it: she spoke her mind, and she often acted on impulse rather than thinking things through; both traits often landing her in hot water with a friend, boyfriend, or family member. Which was why she had few of the first, didn't speak to any of the third, and as for the second: Adrian was the most patient boyfriend she had ever found. A real fucking treasure she tried hard not to lose her temper with.

Despite calling his best friend of some two decades an asshole, Adrian smiled and took it in his stride: "Yeah he can be a little... abrasive," he said, giving her a sly look that ruffled her feathers.

"What's with that look?"

"I mean you two are a little..." Adrian's voice trailed off as even he noticed her expression; this close, holding her still by her hips, his body mere inches from heres, it was hard not to notice the sudden fury in those dark green eyes of hers. "Look, babe, I don't mean-"

"What do you mean?" Zehra said. "Saying I'm abrasive?" Well, she had just been thinking it... but hearing her boyfriend infer it out loud irritated her. God, she was losing her temper and the asshole best friend hadn't even arrived yet!

"Just a little," Adrian said, displaying his chronic lack of fear once again. "But that's what I like about you! I *love* your fire!" Again with those eyes... Zehra could feel her anger ebb each time her own eyes met his. She hated how Adrian could do this to her - and she loved it as well! It was his strength compared to all the other men before, and one of many reasons she loved him; there was a trust present she had never felt with another guy. She trusted that Adrian would be there for her, and she wanted to believe she would be there for him. He made her want to be a better person than the woman she had spent most of her twenties being.

They had been going out for almost half a year now, and Zehra had never felt this way about a man before. He might (just might!) be the one...

"Hmm... good..." she muttered, deciding to let him off the hook this time. "Because you know I don't like it when you say Logan and I are similar."