Ginger and Chris Ch. 02

"Slow now." she said.

A dark wet spot was visible in the black fabric. I pulled slowly, gaze fixed on the Y her legs formed. I noticed she'd shaved herself completely again this morning before leaving with Sarah, wondered briefly if it was Chris' request. I'd deal with it later, there was room for only one thing in my head right now.

Her slit came in to view slowly as I peeled them down. She parted her legs slightly. I sucked in breath as the fabric pulled away, a thin strand stretching from her pink lips to it. I heard myself moan. Eager now, I began to hurry them down over her legs. She didn't slow me, balanced once more to step out of them.

I picked them up off the floor, brought them toward my face. I could feel her watching me from above. A layer of viscous fluid coated the thinnest part of the fabric, the part that had been directly over the bottom of her slit. She'd worn them all day while out with Sarah. Her scent was strong in them. I breathed it in deeply, looked up at her.

I caught the bottom swell of her breasts beneath the sweater as I looked up, and an idea struck me. Reaching up with one hand, I unfastened the two buttons holding it closed. Her eyebrow raised as she watched in interest. The sweater fell open, exposing her nipples. I reached up with the panties, smeared some of the fluid across her left nipple, then her right.

"Mmmm..." she moaned as her eyes drifted shut. Then she looked back down at me. "You dirty little fuck." Her voice had an edge to it. "You want to lick his cum off my nipples? Is that it?"

I nodded as I looked up at her.

"You know he sucked on them already, don't you?"

I moaned.

"Oh? You weren't sure until just now? Well, he did baby. He even bit on them while he fucked me. And now...now you get to lick his cum off of them."

I began to stand up, but she pushed me back down, hand on my shoulder.

"Clean them out first. I want to watch you lick it out of my dirty panties."

I brought them to my mouth, pushed my tongue in to what remained of the fluid. The taste was sharp.

"That's it, you dirty little fuck. Lick it up." she demanded.

I complied. She wasn't usually so forceful with me, but I was enjoying it. I suspected that hint of tequila I'd smelled had something to do with it. She can be a mean drunk when drinking tequila, I have come to learn.

I licked her panties until no visible sign of the affair remained. She watched intently from above, a finger snaking down between her legs at brush across her clit as I did.

I risked trying to stand again, and she let me. I moved closer her, lowering my head toward her breasts, but she stopped me again, gripping the hand that held her panties as she did.

Looking at me, a wicked smile playing in her eyes, she said "Suck on them."

I thought she meant her nipples. I moved toward them again. She squeezed my hand, let her nails bite the skin on the back of them. It got my attention.

"My panties, you dirty fuck. Suck the rest of it out of them..."

She raised our hands, pushed them toward my mouth as she did, forced them in with two of her fingers. I sucked the fabric, tasking the sharp tang of their juices again.

She moved her face close, smelling her own scent. "You like that, don't you? You like sucking what he left up in me out of my panties?"

I nodded, sucking thirstily. She watched me for another 20 seconds or so, then grabbed them and pulled them away from me, stepping back. She eyed me, looked at them. Spread the fabric out with her fingers, as if inspecting them. She nodded, turned away from me.

"C'mon..." she said. "We'll finish this upstairs."

I followed, dying to taste her. She made it to the bedroom before me. She reached the bed as I entered, turning toward me and standing beside it. I stopped just inside the door. She beckoned me with her index finger. I stood in front of her.

"You want to clean me up now, Thomas?"

I nodded.

"But...what if I decide not to let you? What if I don't want you to?"

"Please, baby." was all I could come up with.

"Please baby?" she mimicked. "Would you beg for it if I told you no?"

I nodded. "If that's what you want, I will."

She bit her lower lip, shook her head slowly. "Thomas...baby...it makes me so hot...so...fucking...hot...that you want me like this..."

She moved to me, put her forearms on my shoulders, kissed me hard, then pushed me down to my knees again. She raised one foot to the edge of the bed, parted her legs, and pushed my face in to her slit.

I began to lick at her, moving my head, giving my tongue an angle to slip inside of her. For her part, she did her best to overload my senses. Sight was out, my eyes were closed and I couldn't have seen anything but her shaved mound had they been open. All others were in play however. I could smell their sex in her scent and taste it as their juices slithered along my tongue toward my throat. Her lips were soft, smooth, and inside was slippery wet. As my mind processed these, her mouth rained a steady stream of filthy words on my ears.

"Ohhhhh...you dirty, dirty fuck. You like that? Like licking up your dirty wife's dirty little slit, getting all her dirty lover's dirty cum out of it. That's it, lick it up you dirty little fuck..."

She proceeded to tell me how much I liked to think about her getting fucked while she was out, how much I looked forward to her coming home all used and sloppy, how I sat there waiting for her, cock throbbing in my pants while she was out fucking around on me. It was all true.

I pressed my thumb in between my mouth and her skin to rub her clit while I licked at her, felt her tense as her orgasm rolled through her, rewarding me with another dribble of her juices. She shifted her hips, moving her clit to my mouth. I licked and sucked on it, pushing two fingers up in to her to finger fuck her as I did. She came again, harder, buckling her knees and sending her back on to the bed. Fresh juice seeped out of her, and I moved quickly between her legs to lick it up.

"Fuck me baby...I need you to fuck me..." she said above me.

I was still dressed, tore at my clothes, wound up pushing inside her with my jeans around one ankle, socks still on.

I tried to control myself, please her more, but she didn't seem concerned. She began talking dirty again, asking how her sloppy pussy felt, telling me how much I loved fucking her after another guy had used her up. I tried shifting in to position to get against her clit, but she just kept thrusting her hips up at me, pulling me in to her, telling me what a slut she was the whole time. I couldn't hold back, exploded inside her mid-thrust.

She pressed her hand on my back, pulling me deep and holding me there, whispering in my ear..."That's it...fill me up...fill me up again..."

I quickly began to regain my senses, felt disgusted with myself for giving in so easily to her, for delaying something that was really important to me. I rolled off her, tried to steel myself again for a potential fight.

I could feel her looking at me, but she said nothing. After a few minutes of practicing how I'd start in my head, she craned her neck around to look at the clock. I checked the one on my side of the bed. Not yet eight o'clock.

She stretched, waited another minute for me to say something. I balked.

"It's still early...you want to go down the corner for a few drinks?" she asked. Then without waiting for an answer, she stood up and headed for the bathroom. I watched her long blonde hair swish back and forth across her back, let my eyes drift to her cute ass until the bathroom door closed. I heard the shower come on after a few seconds.

I used the guest bath to shower, was finished and back in the bedroom getting dressed as she came out wrapped in a towel. I sat and watched as she patted herself dry and dressed. She glanced back at me in the mirror now and then, a shy smile on her lips. She pulled on plain black cotton panties, a tight white tank in place of a bra, a loose knit sweater over top, and tight faded jeans. She pulled her damp hair back in a cute pony tail, caught me watching in the mirror again, blushed slightly. She picked a pair of flirty leopard-print flats from her closet, leaned against the dresser and pulled them over her bare feet, looking at me.

"See something you like?" she asked. I'd sat and stared at her the whole time.

"I see everything I like." I answered.

She walked toward the door, squeezed my forearm affectionately as she passed and said "You need to STOP..." with a giggle, then headed downstairs. It was a nice moment, I'd sat there looking at how beautiful she was, just plain Ginger, no make-up, no special hairdo, no special clothing, just my wife as she is naturally. She'd known it, and she'd liked it.

"The Corner" as we call it is just a pair of shopping centers across from each other at a big intersection near our development. There are several chain restaurants and bars scattered throughout. We settled on a chain sports bar we both like, got a high-top table in the corner, and ordered drinks. Beer for me, margarita for her. I was happy to see her enjoying sweet drinks again, I missed the little bit of baby fat she'd worked off over the past few months.

We sat catty-corner to each other, each with our backs against the wall, looking out at the bar. The beer was cold and I was nervous again. I sat and pretended to people watch. I felt Ginger watching me. I looked at her now and then, smiled awkwardly. She sat waiting for me to talk. I was half-way through my third beer, they were going down easy. Ginger was well in to her second drink as well.

"How are they?" I asked, nodding to her glass.

She sipped. "Good. Strong. Stronger than the ones I had at lunch."

So she'd had a few, and it had been tequila. Maybe that explained her aggressiveness after all. Mentioning lunch opened an easy out conversationally for me.

"How's Sarah holding up?"

Ginger sighed. "She's OK. Fucking Jeff, what an ass. He wasn't home when I dropped her off. Might have been good, she had one more than me and was ready to fight. I'm hoping she passed out before he got home. I swear, if he came home smelling like that woman again today and Sarah was awake, she might've killed him."

We talked a bit about the situation, whether she was sure he was cheating, if she knew what she was going to do, along those lines. Then I asked about Friday night with Sarah, whether they were OK after what happened.

"Surprised you, huh?" she asked with a sly smile.

"A little bit." I replied. "But, I'd always heard that threesomes were a bad idea if all three people knew each other. Like, the third should be a stranger to the other two so that it didn't cause issues, hurt feelings, like that."

"Clearly your first rodeo, babes." she said coolly. I must have blanched. "Oops, shit, that came out wrong." She touched my arm. "I just meant that, well...shit, it's not like you don't know...Sarah and I have a long history together and we haven't always been angels. You aren't the first guy we've shared."

I felt embarrassed for some reason. She'd never actually told me about threesomes with Sarah, but that didn't bother me, obviously. It was more a feeling of being the only virgin in the room, if you've ever felt like that.

"I, uh....I guess I picked up on that..." I said awkwardly. "I just don't want anything hurting your friendship."

"Awww..you're so sweet. Don't worry though. It was a little weird this morning, but we talked it out, and I feel like we're OK. Me and Sar have been together long enough to know you just have to keep talking when things don't feel right." She squeezed my forearm.

I felt the underlying message in her last sentence.

The waitress brought another round. I took a long pull, felt my head buzzing. Ginger was on her third, she had to be feeling it too.

I sat back, pretended to people-watch again. I noticed a guy at the bar looking our way, looking at Ginger actually. He saw me, looked down at his drink. I felt Ginger's foot caress my calf beneath the table. I looked away from him, kept him in the corner of my eye, saw him look at her again. I glanced across the table at her. She lifted her drink, stared directly at him over the rim of the glass as she pulled the straw in with her tongue and sipped. Her foot made long, sexy strokes along the back of my calf as she openly flirted with the guy. He saw me look at him again, turned away.

Ginger set her drink down, looked at me.

Enough. I felt my cock stirring. I had to get this off my chest before anything else happened.

"Gin...I..uh, I want to talk to you about something."

"I know...you finally going to tell me what's on your mind, or are we gonna fight again?" she said. There was no anger, just a plainly stated question.

For as long as I'd held it in, as much as I labored over what to say, it came out surprisingly quick.

"I feel like you set me up Friday night. The thing with Sarah was great...amazing...but...but after, you were in such a rush to go see him...it felt like the whole thing was just so you could go and see him again."

There, it was out. Pathetic though..."him"? I sounded like a wuss...use his name for chrissakes.

Ginger's mouth hung open slightly. Her cheeks were turning red. Anger, not embarrassment. Whatever she'd thought I was going to say, that had not been it. Her eyes began to fill, her lip quivered. She looked down, then grabbed at her purse on the table. Her hands shook. I thought she was going to leave, but she stayed put, began fumbling through her purse. She got frustrated, took a big breath, tried to calm herself. I reached across for her arm, but she pulled back, resumed digging in her purse, finally pulling her phone out. For the second time in the past two weeks, she tossed it on to the table, this time with more force behind it. It clattered noisily across the hard wood toward me, clinking off my glass. I felt people looking at us, but Ginger's eyes were fixed on me, oblivious to anyone else.

I glanced at her phone, had no idea what I should do. She glared at me, a tear spilled over from one eye and rolled down her cheek. She wiped at it angrily, opened her mouth to talk, but her breath hitched. She stopped, collected herself, and her words came out in a harsh whisper.

"What you just said...that would be....that is a shitty, shitty thing to do to somebody. And I can't BELIEVE that you think I could do something so shitty to you Thomas."

I was aware people knew we were fighting, straining to listen in. I opened my mouth to talk. I didn't plan to apologize, but I hated to see her hurt, hated when she cried. No, no apology, I felt like I had a point, but I wanted to say something. She cut me off before I uttered a word.

"Go on...I don't erase anything...I don't keep secrets...go on and look." she said, nodding at her phone.

I had no idea what I should look at I just sat there.

She was getting on a roll, didn't wait for me to figure it out. "I didn't even talk to Chris, didn't even THINK about getting in touch with him, until I worked things out with Sarah. I wasn't even sure she wanted to do it until Tuesday after work when we talked it all the way through. I thought I was gonna have to go to plan B, and I didn't want to talk to Chris until I knew what I was doing for you...FOR YOU..."

She stopped short, voice catching, fighting back a sob. I reached over, gripped her forearm. A good sign, she didn't pull away.

"Go on and look if you want." she continued sharply. "Check my messages. I didn't even text him until Thursday afternoon, and I just told him I might be talking to him soon. I didn't hear back 'til Friday after work, and he just asked me to come over. It's not like I had a lot of time to talk it over with you. And I thought you said you were OK with it..."

Her voice trailed off. She started to cry silently, got pissed at herself, fought it off.

You know how you just feel like a total dick sometimes? That was me right then. I thought for a minute while she collected herself. Sipped my beer. I didn't know what to say or do. I glanced at her phone.

"Go on." she said.

I took it, she already had the text conversation with Chris open. It hurt a little to read. They were very comfortable with each other, it came through in the tone of their messages. But it wasn't unusual, really. Ginger is like that with everyone she likes. And she was right, I could see from the time stamps that they hadn't talked in a while, then it happened just like she said from Thursday to Friday. It also looked like today was spontaneous, he texted her just before she sent me the message telling me she was going over there.

Did I mention feeling like a dick? My face was hot, and I hoped the dim lighting hid how red it was. I sat back, sighed. If you ever need instructions on how to fuck up a good thing, drop me an email. I have a knack for it.

We sat there, each sipping our drinks. She wouldn't look at me. I watched as her composure slowly returned. Finally I got up, walked around the table to her, bumped my knees against hers a few times until she looked up at me.

"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions. I guess I should have known better, and I'll try to take things at face value and not read in to them from now on." I told her.

She nodded curtly, looked down again, leaving me standing there. I waited a bit, then went back to my seat and took another sip. I didn't want it to continue.

"Look, Gin...I don't want to fight anymore. I..."

She looked up and cut me off. "It's OK...I...I can see how it might have looked, sitting here thinking about it. It's just that....baby...you have to know by now that I'm not like her. I don't play that shit with you."

"Her" is my ex. "That shit" sums up the head games that were played in my first marriage. Not that anything similar to this had happened with my ex, but instead that she did things specifically to keep me off balance and cause me pain. I know Ginger isn't like that, but I guess I'd also come to expect things...being set up like I thought she had done, for instance.

I reached across the table and this time she took my hand and met my eyes. I opened my mouth but she shook her head.

"Thomas...let's just move past it, OK? It's been a tough few weeks. I won't do that kind of thing to you. And from now on, I'll make sure I tell you my plans as soon as I set something up with Chris, so there are no surprises."

I felt the tug in my stomach and suppose there was a corresponding look on my face at her words. I was happy to put it behind us, but I'd had an open question whether she'd continue to see Chris. She'd just answered that without me even asking. She picked up on it.

"Oh...I see." she said. "Do you not want me to see him anymore?"

I could have taken minutes, hours, days on the decision, but instead I took a leap of faith in her. I shook my head.

"No. It's hard, don't get me wrong. But I can see how much you like it, and if I'm honest with myself, I like it too. I just need to get over the insecurity, but I'll handle it."

She sighed, and I sensed relief, which made me smile. Lucky she wasn't looking at me or I would have had to explain.

We sat for a bit more, I was getting near the end of my beer and thought we might leave soon. She was looking at her drink, and a smile began to curve the corner of her mouth upwards.

"What?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"C'mon, you gonna keep secrets?" I teased.

She looked at me, bit her lower lip. "This is the second time you've been jealous since we started...you know. You never got jealous before."

"And this makes you smile?"

"I'm sorry...I know it shouldn't." she said.

"Here's some news...I'm jealous every time. Every single time. But then you come back to me, and it's all better."