Ginger Picks Up the Pace

I dumped one of them in to the ice bucket then carried it to the counter. She'd snipped the knot off the condom and was dumping it in to the bowl. She stirred it with a finger slowly. I felt my cock throbbing restlessly.

"So the twist in that story was that the guy is thinking his wife is gonna jerk him off again that night because he knows they're out of the cubes. But instead, she comes home and goes in the kitchen, makes like she's getting a cube out of the freezer, then comes up to him in bed. She's all sloppy down there, so she's actually been fucking another guy and he gets his fantasy after all. Nice, huh?"

"Mmm...pretty hot. So, how did you...?" I started.

She lifted her finger out, glossy and slick, held it up to me. I backed my head away. Staring at me, she slipped it between her lips instead, sucked longingly on it, then pulled it out and pressed her lips to mine, pushing her tongue in to my mouth. We kissed hungrily again.

Pulling away, she said "I got the idea when he was finishing up, and so when he was done I pulled it off him and took it to the bathroom, then flushed the toilet, like I was doing him a favor."

She poured the mixture in to the tray. There wasn't much, and it only covered about a quarter of the bottom for three cubes. She stuck it in the freezer.

"So...you're going to do for me what that lady did for her husband later?" I asked.

"Huh uh...something else in mind...you'll see..." she smiled. "Now, take me up to bed."

I might have objected to the cube tease, but instead I pulled her to me, lifted her on to the counter in the corner, and pushed her back. I'd been patient enough and couldn't wait the few more minutes to get her upstairs. She giggled, then planted her bare feet on either side of the counter as I pushed her dress up again, then dove between her legs. She was soaked from my fingering. I could smell and slightly taste the latex from the condom. I guess it should have grossed me out further, but It just spurred me on as I attacked her with my tongue.

She related her latest adventure to me breathlessly as she leaned back against the cabinets. How she'd initially ignored him at work, but knew he was looking at her whenever he thought she wasn't looking. During a meeting break, she finally approached him and told him that those looks would cost him a drink later. It turned in to an event for everyone, which made it awkward, but she'd managed to get alone with him, she thought without anyone noticing.

Once in the room, she told me he'd spent a good long time playing with her body.

"He got me undressed, then lay me on the bed. He stood there and stripped to his boxers. I tried to pull him on to me then, but he just slid up next to me and started running his hands over my skin, but not touching me. He kept them just off my skin, where I could feel it but NOT feel it, you know?"

He'd done that forever all over her front, down to her feet, over her face and neck, then turned her over and did all over again on her back, and she said she'd felt like a quivering bowl of jelly by the time he finally touched her for real.

Hearing it was driving me crazy with lust, but there was a hint of jealousy lurking just beneath. She'd obviously loved it, and it's nothing I'd ever done to her.

"All of a sudden, he was on top of me, and it was like sensory overload, all that deprivation where he didn't touch me, then suddenly he was all over me. He went down on me, and I managed to coax him around so I could get his cock in my mouth."

I moaned out loud when she said it, then nipped at her clit until she came again. I stood upright, tugged her dress off, then pulled her off the counter and pushed her back on to the kitchen table.

She looked up at me, her black bra the only thing covering her soft skin.

"You like hearing about it, Thomas? You like hearing how I put his cock in my mouth?" Her voice was taunting, she cocked her head playfully.

I grunted, pushed my pants down to release my cock. She got up on her elbows, grabbed my shaft with one hand.

"You want to kiss me now that I sucked on his cock? You want to kiss on my dirty mouth?"

I pushed my tongue in to her mouth, put my weight on her to press her down on to the table, tried to push my cock in to her. She held it tight, pulled her head to the side. With her free hand she pulled her bra cup over her left breast.

"He sucked on my nipples too, baby....when he was fucking me he started to bite on them..." She was talking breathlessly. "You wanna suck on them?"

I inhaled her nippled in to my mouth, sucked it hard, took it between my teeth and clamped down lightly.

She guided my cock to her slit, she was drenched, then put her lips to my ear, whispered to me "Aren't you gonna fuck me like he did while you do that?"

I slammed in to the hilt. We spent ourselves there in the kitchen that night, her coaxing me on, telling me what a slut she'd been, telling me how she knew I loved her being such a slut. I stopped myself repeatedly, close to cumming with each burst of filthy talk pouring from her mouth, until finally she told me to fill her up and we both finished noisily.

We staggered up the stairs, nude and exhausted, and fell in to bed. She wrapped herself around me and we slept straight through to the alarm.

I drove her in Friday. Work was a challenge, she told me it'd been the same for her. We skipped dinner went right to bed. While I was constantly aroused as I thought of Thursday night, I was too tired to act on it.

I felt her press against me later, opened my eyes and was surprised to fine we'd slept straight through to Saturday morning. She was facing me, only a thin t-shirt on. She slid a leg up over mine, whispered "Make love with me Thomas..."

We spent a long, slow, 40 minutes, all warm kissing and soft caresses. I'd first said that to her once while we were both still married to others. Til then we'd only fucked like teenagers. Afterwards, she told me no one had ever been with her like that, and that she liked the way I said "with" when I said it. Our sexual relationship, then and now, was always more physical and edgy, but every now and then one or the other of us gets puts on a softer side.

I'd forgotten that we were having friends over for cocktails that night, but she reminded me before I could drift back to sleep. It was an annual end of summer thing for us, one last night with friends before fall was on us. I didn't see what was the big deal, really...it didn't get THAT much colder in September down here, but it was a nice excuse to get together with friends.

The day turned in to a scramble, getting things ready, picking up trays of finger foods, a run to the liquor store, but we managed to be ready before people started showing up.

It was just about twilight. I was considering whether to push my easy buzz a little further, sipping on a beer and chatting with a group. I'd just gotten a fire going in our fire pit for the true southerners who thought it was a chilly evening. Ginger walked up to me with two glasses.

"Trade ya..." she said, nodding toward my beer. I pulled the rest of it, can't let it go to waste you know, then set the bottle down and took the glass she handed me.

Someone in the group behind me ventured a smart-assed "Oh waitress...I'll have one of those..."

"Huh-uh..." Ginger answered. "I made that special for Thomas...". There was a spark in her eye as she looked at me.

I looked down in the glass. Clear liquid and ice...the ice was a little cloudy. I felt my hear speed up.

She leaned in to me, whispered "Just vodka and a little Ginger, baby..." then turned and walked away.

I turned back to the group, trying to act normal. They were all talking. Either no one noticed or I was doing OK acting like nothing was going on. Ginger walked in to my line of site, joined another small group, but continued to look at me. I tipped the glass toward her, took a sip. Nothing, really...it tasted like nice vodka. Maybe a little something else, but probably my imagination at work. I swirled the ice around in the glass, looked directly at her as I took another pull. She bit her lower lip. Very sexy.

I got pulled in to the conversation, but was distracted as I continued to sip my drink. After a bit I looked around for Ginger again, couldn't find her, but then suddenly she was behind me tapping my shoulder.

"Thomas, could I get a mo?" Murmurs from the group I was chatting with along the lines of "uh oh...that can't be good..." and "someone's in trouuuuble..."

We stepped around to the side of the house. She leaned in close. "You are making me too hot sipping on that drink like you are..."

"You started it." I said slyly.

She took the glass from me, swirled it as she looked in to it. "Can you taste it?" she asked.

"Honestly...not really...I think just the vodka. But the idea...I agree...making me hot for you."

"They're almost gone." She said. Then she slipped a finger into the glass, pulled a sliver of one of them out, sucked it between her lips and let it melt. It dribbled slowly down her chin. "Gonna kiss me baby?"

I pressed her against the house, licked the trickle from her chin and then kissed her. She pulled back, put her left foot flat against the house, parting her legs a bit. She wore a short denim mini skirt and had doubled up two tank tops. Easy, relaxing...and sexy...at least to me.

I slid a hand up her thigh. She wasn't wearing panties, and I raised an eyebrow at her as I slipped a finger over her slit.

She smiled. "You never know...someone might have brought a cousin we didn't know...I thought it best to be prepared for easy access..."

"Slut." I said as I pushed a finger in to her.

"You know you love it." she said back before she gasped. I started to finger her, but she stopped me. "We can't...people are gonna know."

"Let's go somewhere." I said.

She pushed off the house. "We can't, dammit. Everyone'll know what we're doing." She kissed me again, pulled away. "Save it for later." Then as she backed away, she looked down, smiled. "Hey...uhhh...you might want to think of cold showers or hairy armpits or something before you come back around." Then she walked around the corner.

I looked down, saw what she meant. I was rock hard and it was obvious despite me wearing long and somewhat loose shorts. Shit.

I walked to a side door that led in to the kitchen. I'd seen we were light on lime wedges so figured cutting some up would take my mind off Ginger.

I stepped in to the kitchen to see a very cute ass sticking out of the refrigerator. Ginger's BFF, Sarah. She had on a white linen mini dress. Very mini. I could see her peach colored panties as they disappeared between her legs, pressed tightly to outline the treasure beneath.

After admiring the view for another second, I said "Hey Sarah...can I help?"

She squealed and jumped, turning in mid-air. "Jeezus Tommy...you want me to pee myself?!?

I chose not to reply with the first answer that popped in to my head, opting for "Sorry." instead. "What are you looking for."

"Ya'll need limes." she said.

"I was just coming for those." I answered, then stepped past her and opened a cooler holding a bag of them along with a few other things.

"No wonder I couldn't find 'em." She said. I put them on the counter and started cutting. She pulled up a bar stool on the other side. She had 2/3 of a limeless Corona, so limed it for her. She clinked the bottle to my glass, reminding me of my special drink. If I'd come here to lose my erection, things weren't working out so well.

"I won't ask how you knew it was me from that angle, but just how long were you staring at my ass, anyway?" she asked slyly. It took me back a little, and we both blushed.

I managed a zinger back. "Long enough to know you look good in peach..." I said.

She blushed even more brightly and an awkward silence ensued.

"So what's up, Jeff doesn't like us anymore?" Sarah had come alone, her husband Jeff stayed home.

"Way to kill the mood, Senor Buzzkill." she said, then, "Don't get me started on my husband." And then she started anyway.

She sat expressing her marital woes as I cut the limes. I felt bad, Sarah was a beautiful woman and she deserved better.

Ginger's voice echoed down the hall..."Baby...you back here? We need more li..." her sentence cut off as she entered the kitchen to see Sarah and I there.

"Well, don't ya'll make a cute couple?" with a bit of venom in her voice. Ginger is the jealous type. Ginger and Sarah had had a thing before I'd moved down here to be with Ginger, a sort of medium-term same-sex experimentation. They were the best of friends, but their friendship always had an edge to it.

Before I could respond, Sarah replied innocuously, as if she hadn't noticed Ginger's tone. "Hey Gin...needed a lime, came back to get some and voila, here they were..." Clearly the girl had some experience defusing my lovely wife.

Ginger stood, considered the both of us, then seemed to relax. She came over, slipped a lime between her lips and sucked it, puckered and made a sour face.

Sarah said "What I really want to know, is what's in that drink Thomas is sipping on?"

That froze us both for a second, then Ginger answered "Just vodka...some Russian stuff his Russian girlfriend at work brought him back..."

Oh geez, here we go. A Russian consultant, who happened to be female and attractive, had brought some vodka back from home after hearing that I liked good vodka. It'd been sitting in the freezer, seal intact, ever since, as Ginger had expressed that the ONLY reason a girl would bring a guy something like that would be to get in his pants. I'd been dying to try it, but it hadn't been worth the hassle of more conversation about the Russian girl. Apparently it was OK for me to drink it when mixed with "a little Ginger", however.

Ginger eyed me with a sly smile as she watched me realize what she'd done. Not that I cared, but she often surprised me with the schemes she came up with.

"Uh huh...just vodka..." Sarah said. "That'd explain the googly eyes ya'll were making at each other the whole time after you gave it to him."

"Think what you want..." Ginger said, then started to head out of the kitchen. At the door she turned and said "Hey...if things heat up in here, one of ya'll come and get me..." then spun and left.

Shocked at what I'd just heard, I went back to cutting the last of the limes.

"Damn, Tommy...I think she just green-lighted us..." Sarah said blankly. She looked as surprised as I felt.

I quickly finished the limes and headed for the deck, and Sarah followed, neither of us wanting to test Ginger's invitation, and in fact determined to get as far from it as we could.

I felt pretty good Sunday. I'd switched to the vodka and stuck with it, holding a nice steady buzz the entire night. Ginger had gone well past "steady buzz", with the benefit being a very physical venting of our pent-up sexual frustrations shortly after the guests had departed. I figured she'd have a bitch of a hangover and was getting ready to go and start the clean-up when she rolled over on to her stomach and propped her head on one hand. She'd kicked half the sheets off and had her knees bent, feet moving back and forth in the air. Her hair was mussed, eyes a little puffy with sleep.

"Go on back to sleep baby..." I said.

She smiled sleepily. "K...just one question though before I do..." she said.

"OK, shoot."

"How are we gonna go about finding someone else to fuck me, anyway?"

She caught me completely off-guard and she knew it. She'd asked almost that same exact question back when we'd only been talking about it, and the outcome had been a bet, now known simply as "the bet", that had really started it all.

Caught flat-footed, I could only manage a slack-jawed "uhhh..."

"It's OK, baby...just think on it a bit and we'll compare ideas later." she said, then simply rolled back over to go back to sleep.

Think on it a bit, she said. Not too distracting at all. Yea right. I managed to get most of the party remnants bagged up and outside before she came down to help finish up. We had some coffee, she confirmed a wicked hangover but was managing it, then I went for a run. I came back to find her in the hammock, showered and wearing short shorts and a tight tank top.

"Why don't you clean up and join me?" she said as she patted the hammock next to her.

I did, came down and settled in next to her, fought my arousal off as she hooked a leg over me and pressed against me. She smelled light and fresh, soap, shampoo, baby oil and lotion all mixed together.

"We gonna be able to talk through this without you jumping on top of me?" she teased.

"I don't know...we gonna be able to talk through this without YOU jumping on top of ME?" I retorted.

She looked up at me, eyes squinted and feigning a pissy look. "I'll do my best."

We talked about ideas for getting her together with guys then. We both liked the random guy at hotel bar method, it seemed to be the dirtiest, but there were no guarantees and it carried risk. I knew of amateur sites that had areas to connect with guys, but that seemed too planned, and we didn't think we wanted to get to know a bunch of people in the process of meeting them. Gin mentioned some adult-oriented dating sites, where the obvious goal was to hook up and not necessarily to meet your next spouse. In the end we agreed to sign her up on a couple of those and see how it went, but that we'd try out local hotel bar pick ups first.

And that's how things really got started for us. The online sites resulted in a flood of email, and who had time to trawl through all of it to find legitimate opportunities? We'd go to bars though, her dressed provocatively and me sitting somewhere across the bar to watch, and almost every time she'd wind up with a guy sitting next to her and hitting on her.

There was no specific schedule, we'd go out when the mood struck one of us. If it struck one of us, it was never hard to talk the other in to the mood. Every night wasn't a success, in as far as Ginger going back to a guy's hotel room. Some would shy away once it became clear they could get her, maybe thinking it couldn't be that easy without something being wrong. Sometimes Gin's creepy buzzer would go off and she'd bail out. Regardless of outcome, she'd get pretty tipsy most of those nights, and whether or not she hooked up, we'd both be wound up and tear each other apart at home.

There were a lot of guys, though. I eventually stopped counting, but through to the New Year I'd guess she was with no less than 3 guys each of the months. Sometimes it was several more. Weeknights were easier to get them, more business travelers at the hotels, but it was rough getting up for work the next day. She did manage to weed out a few prospects from the online sites, which pushed the count up in the months she'd met them.

At first, she'd tell me all the sordid details as I explored her well-used body on the nights she'd connect. The script was about the same most nights. We'd go together, walk in separately. I'd watch her remotely, enough of a turn-on in it's own right. If it worked out, I'd stay until she left the bar with him, then head home to wait. She always cabbed it home those nights, and always came tottering up the walk barefoot, her high heels always strung over one finger, something that became a HUGE turn on for me for some reason. Her skirt / dress / blouse always in disarray, hair tossed about. If she'd put on make up, it'd be smeared and faded. She'd smell of liquor and fucking.

Once, in bed the morning after she'd been out, she said "Hey...when I come home after being out...you seem to press against me and breathe in, really deeply, when you first see me afterwards."

I thought about it, nodded. "Yea...I guess I do."