My (Ex) Girlfriend's Work Do Ch. 01

This story took place one week after the last.

It was Saturday night and I was sitting in the corner of The Riverside bar in Reading, UK.

On my left was my ex-gf Elizabeth, Beth for short.

We went to the same University but were on our industrial placement years, which had turned our loving 2-year long relationship into a long-distance one in our early twenties.

Unfortunately, during this long-distance period, Beth cheated on me.

In fact, she was actively cheating on me for several months with one of her new work colleagues. When I found out, we split up and I was initially angry, but that soon passed as my anger gave way to arousal and the need to have the girl I loved back in my life.

I'd forgiven her and was still desperate for us to get back together properly.

This had driven us into our current situation. Her cheating was out in the open. I was aware of what had gone on behind my back, what was still going on in fact, because she was still seeing him. I accepted it, encouraged it even. She'd tell me about her sex-life with Tom in detail, knowing how turned-on it made the both of us. He was old enough to be her Dad, and was engaged and lived with his fiancée, which provided my mess of a relationship with some protection.

Our previously dwindling sex-life was exciting again and we settled into the groove of her fucking Tom regularly, and last week - finally - letting me have her again too. I wasn't entirely happy about the situation. Given a choice, I'd rather have Beth all to myself like I used to, but sharing her with a faceless work colleague whose path I never crossed was the next best thing. I was still convinced Beth was 'the one' and would be my future Wife. Dumping her was not an option.

Our position in the corner of the bar was quite secluded. A table separated us from the main crowd at the bar and meant we could talk.

She'd invited me along to a big work party. They'd hired the place out. Everyone in the bar worked at the same company where Beth was doing her placement. It was a huge IT corporate, I didn't know any of them and she didn't know the majority. She'd kept her two lives very separate since she'd moved to Reading. I wondered if loverboy was here. I watched every middle-aged man with suspicion.

It was rammed and very noisy. I was glad that we were shielded from the main crowd by our heavy wooden table. We'd been handed a bottle of red when we arrived by one of her work colleagues which we happily polished off between us, and were now well into another. Tonight, wine was good - it meant I could avoid having to fight my way to bar every 10 minutes.

Beth was looking stunning.

As I've described previously, Beth wasn't a skinny rake. She'd grown into a proper, pretty, curvy young woman.

I'd always had a thing for girls with big tits and round bums. In Beth's case, she only had one of those two features. Her tits were on the small side for a girl of her shape. She was a UK size 14 dress size (12 in some of the more generous shops) but wore a 36A bra.

She'd curled her normally wavy hair, and her blond locks bounced neatly around her shoulders as the tips gently brushed the thin straps of a new electric-blue dress. The dress was quite short for her. She usually complained that she didn't like to show too much of her 'fat' legs. But tonight, the hem of her dress was hanging around mid-thigh, which was certainly a lot shorter than she was normally comfortable with.

To clarify for anyone who hasn't read my previous stories about Beth, she's not fat. At least, I don't consider her to be. She's curvy and marginally overweight for her height, but not fat.

Her legs aren't skinny, but any guy except the most shallow would be happy to see her in a skirt.

However, Beth has always struggled with low body confidence and would usually shy away from wearing short skirts and dresses because in her eyes, she WAS fat - despite constant reassurances from me to the contrary.

Since she'd started her placement, moved to Reading and hooked up with Tom, she was more confident. She seemed more willing to loosen up a little and took to wearing skirts regularly. She did it for him, she told me as much, so I assumed the short dress was for his benefit too. I certainly wasn't sorry she'd begun to gain a little confidence, even if it had been due to his affections. Again, I scanned the bar, wondering if he was here tonight, and if I'd get to meet him.

Her outfit was topped-off with her favourite grey suede ankle boots. They didn't necessarily go that well with the dress but Beth doesn't do open-toed shoes. I also suspected that wearing these was primarily because Tom - the engaged 40 year-old she was sleeping with - had told her he thought these particular boots made her look 'extra-fuckable'.

She'd confided in me in recent weeks that the first time she slept with him, she'd left them on throughout at his request.

As usual, I'd travelled up on the train. Normally I'd come on a Friday after work, but I had to go to a colleague's leaving drink, so I travelled up on the Saturday afternoon instead. I'd met Beth for dinner at quarter-past five, and we'd headed to the bar together for 7.30. It was now 9.30 and I wondered how much longer I would be able to avoid chatting to anyone. We were both pretty buzzed and I was hoping we'd be leaving soon to go back and maybe resume where we'd left off last week.

The second bottle of wine was now empty and our glasses were barely half-full. Beth was, as usual, quite tipsy by now. I can always tell when she's been drinking because she starts talking a little too loudly, slurs slightly and loses her inhibitions - chatting openly about subjects she'd never be comfortable chatting about when sober.

"...So you see that girl at the bar? In the green and white dress?" Beth asked me.

"The ginger?"

"Yeah, that's Alva. She's my closest friend up here, we work together a bit. What do you think?"

"What do I think about what?"

"About her. She's pretty, don't you think?" I wasn't sure where this conversation was heading.

"Yeah, I guess she is..."

She most definitely WAS pretty. She was slightly taller and slimmer than Beth, with small-ish tits and a superb looking bum, accentuated by the tightness of her dress. Her long ginger hair tied back casually in a scrunchie that matched her dress.

So, yes. She was pretty. Smoking-hot wouldn't have been an exaggeration. Beth knew I had a thing for gingers.

But I was still confused why I was being asked, then it dawned on me.

"Do YOU think she's pretty, babe?"

"Well duh yeah of course, I'd kill for her body".

"That's not what I meant and you know it... you fancy her don't you?" I said, more a statement than a question. Beth wouldn't consider herself bisexual, but I knew that her first sexual experience had been with a girl - her high-school friend Emma, and I often teased her about her same-sex history.

When I pressed her on the precise details, she confessed that they'd started by practicing kissing on each other. After a few months they'd progressed to fooling around, before eventually having sex - totally in secret - on a fairly regular basis.

They often slept over at each others houses, and always shared a bed, which was normal so didn't raise any parental alarm bells. They didn't stop even when Beth started seeing her first boyfriend and lost her virginity, at least not until they got really serious. I always suspected (or perhaps hoped) there was more to this side of her.

"Fancy her? That's not why I was pointing her out, I was just trying to show you some of the people I work with."

I noticed she didn't outright deny it.

"Have you... you know... done anything... with her?"

"You're obsessed! Of course not, I just..."

"But you'd like to?" I interrupted. "I bet you've got yourself off imagining her naked, haven't you?"

Beth rolled her eyes and decided to indulge me - she put on her exaggerated teasing voice.

"Oh babe, I don't need to IMAGINE what she looks like naked, I've seen her naked loads of times."

"And did you..."

"For god's sake, did I what? Did we jump on each other? You'd love that, wouldn't you? Sadly for you, no, we didn't. We usually get ready together before going out, so that's how I've seen her. She doesn't know about... what I told you... about Em."

"She looks a bit like Emma. I bet you would..."

She interrupted me and steered the subject back to where she intended it to be before I'd hijacked the conversation.

"Anyway, on the subject of that sort of thing, I've been thinking about the last time you were up here, what we did and our conversation... and what you said."

I remembered it vividly, I'd been reliving it in my mind throughout the past week. I'd even begun to write it up.

"Which bit in particular?"

"What you said about my life here, and the way that you don't object to me... you know... doing stuff."

"You mean that I said I don't mind you... being a dirty girl?". My cock jumped as I repeated the words from our pillow-talk last week.

Beth giggled.

"Yeah that, but also what you said afterwards..."

I had a hunch I knew what she might be referring to.

"You see, I need to come clean. Me and Tom had a huge fight on the Sunday evening after you left last weekend. He told me that even though he loved me he wasn't going to leave Sarah. I was pretty pissed-off with him. We haven't been with one another since."

She continued.

"Weirdly, I wasn't as bothered as I thought I'd be. What you and me did last weekend was really good and I realised how much I missed us being together..."

For once the 'us' referred to me and her not bloody Tom.

My heart leapt as the love of my life told me about her apparent break-up with loverboy. Mentally I was already looking forward to her being mine again. Properly mine. My girlfriend.

She carried-on.

"... I think we're in a good place, right? We're enjoying being with each other again, a bit like how it used to be...?"

I interrupted her mid-flow.

"I feel exactly the same... I feel like last week really reminded us both of what a great couple we are, right?"

She looked confused, followed immediately by an apologetic, pitying look. It appeared I'd jumped the gun.

She said quickly.

"Oh... I'm sorry babe... I wasn't saying we should get back together. If anything, although I'm really happy with the place we're in right now... I'm afraid I might be about to fuck it all up..."

She was rambling, as she tends to do when she's been drinking. But she obviously had something important to get off her chest.

I fought past the embarrassment and nodded along, still unclear as to what she was on about.

"...because I had something to ask... no... not really to ask... something to check..."

"Go on" I said, warily.

"I'm not sure you'll want to know now. It feels like the moment might have gone."

"No, please, we're all about the honesty now, and if you've got something to say then I want to hear it." I said, in at attempt to reassure her.

"Ok, if you're sure..."

Beth lowered her voice and leaned in close to my left ear.

"... last weekend, you said you were ok with me and... other guys... doing... you know... stuff, right?"

Ok, so this was veering far, far away from what I'd hoped it would be.

"If you mean having sex, I'm not sure I actually put it like that, did I?" I said, curtly.

"Oh, I think you pretty much did. And if not, you as-good-as implied it. Well... what if that... sort-of... happened... a bit?"

"I think that ship has already sailed, don't you?"

"No, you're not listening. Other guyS."

She left me in no doubt this time as to her meaning.

"Plural." She added, just to hammer home her point.

She saw I was confused and carried on.

"Like I said, I feel like we're in a good place and I really don't want to lie to you like last time... I took it as read that you'd be ok with it... Did I get it wrong?"

"What have you done?" I asked, unable to bear her beating around the bush.

"So you ARE ok with it?"

"Is this you asking for permission or confessing?"

To that she drew back from me, bit her bottom lip and looked sheepishly downwards. I'd seen that look a lot in recent weeks, and it meant pure indiscretion.

This look transmitted all the information I needed to know. Unless I was very much mistaken, my ex-girlfriend had spread her pale, chubby little legs for another guy and increased her 'magic number' to four.

Confused and shocked but also overcome by jealousy and lust, I leaned over her as she sat back against the wall in the corner of the bar, the tips of our noses brushing as I looked into her big, drunken, worried eyes. Looking at her, I could still barely believe this innocent girl who had let me be her second (male) lover had taken a third man between her thighs, let alone a fourth.

Our lips touched and I kissed her gently before our mouths opened, our tongues swirling slowly but powerfully together.

As we kissed, I moved my right hand onto the inside of her smooth right thigh, just below the hem of her short blue dress. Hidden from view beneath the table, Beth's legs softly parted, and my hand advanced quickly to her crotch. As I touched her knickers, she broke our kiss and let out a little gasp. She bought her mouth to my ear and said "Oh babe... you're so good to me... nobody else would be this understanding... can you feel how wet I am? That's what happens whenever we have our little chats, it's almost instant - I can't help myself."

She was right. Her gusset was wet-through and getting wetter by the second as I playfully pushed the thin fabric inside her, deliberately coating them in her sticky juices.

"Hey, don't do that, I'll be all dirty for later on!" She said.

I didn't stop, instead beginning to rub gently on her enlarged clit through the fabric.

"You didn't answer my question." I said, already knowing the answer by her reaction prior to our kiss. "Asking or confessing?"

With that she clamped her legs shut and made me withdraw my hand.

"Oh my god... seriously babe, you're going to have to stop doing that, I'm getting a little worked-up here!" She protested.

"Anyway, where were we? Oh yeah, Alva..." Beth continued.

My cock leapt about a foot in the air as my mind raced ahead thinking about what she might be about to reveal.

"... she knows about me and Tom. Well, not exactly... she knows I've been seeing a guy. I had to tell someone."

Hardly as exciting as I was hoping for.

"So she knows you cheated on me?"

"Sorry."

"What else does she know? How long has she known? You didn't mention our 'fun' did you?"

"She's known for quite a while, I confided in her after we got back from Greece. And no, she thinks you're blissfully unaware. She thinks I've had my head turned, that's all."

She'd swerved the third part of my question.

"But you were worried about people at work finding out, weren't you? Why would you voluntarily tell someone? Aren't you worried about your 'reputation'? And about Sarah (Tom's fiancee) finding out about you and him?"

"It's not like that, Alva's totally trustworthy, she'd never breathe a word. She just encouraged me to do whatever felt right and have fun. She didn't judge me at all. She's really helped me through all this, it's been a big relief to share it all with someone.... Anyway, we had a heart-to-heart on the phone last Sunday night after me and Tom argued. She said that if you and me weren't working out - and Tom wasn't willing to commit either - then I needed to distract myself, expand my horizons, meet someone new, someone with less complications. She offered to set me up on a date..."

"A date? But she knows you've got a boyfriend?"

"Yeah but as far as she knew, you and me weren't in a good place, she thought I was looking to move on from you. That's what it must have looked like to her. I'd been open about our problems which until a month ago seemed unfixable, and I didn't correct her after we started having fun again recently.

She knew I'd cheated on you already and said she knew someone who would be a good match for me who fancied me already, he'd seen me around the office."

"So... this sounds like confessing... not asking."

She looked away and nodded.

"Another work person?"

Another small nod. Then after a few seconds of silence she turned back to me.

"Chris. He works in HR next door."

"In HR? Isn't he meant to keep out of work relationships?"

"Yeah. Especially when he's my placement liaison officer. He looks after all the grads and placement students and helps them settle in."

She dropped that revelation in and quickly moved on.

"Before I knew it, she'd set us up to meet for a drink after work the very next day."

"So you went on a date with some guy you barely knew on Monday?"

"Well... he's responsible for the integration of all the placement students, so I kind-of knew him formally from that... but yeah."

Alarm bells began to ring. Whilst I was glad to hear about Tom seemingly being out-of-the-picture, I was a bit miffed that she'd instantly moved to replace him with the first guy who'd shown an interest. We'd been getting along so well recently that I fleetingly thought her apparent break-up with Tom would mean we could go back to normality, just Beth and me - like it used to be.

At the same time though, I was conflicted. My cock was stirring. I had to find out more about Chris and what had happened on their date. Maybe he'd crashed and burned? But maybe not? Maybe the opposite - maybe she'd gone one step further than with Tom and actually screwed him on their first date. In fact, that must be it, given the confession she was in the middle of making. I was confused, what did I actually want her to say next?

"And... was it a 'special' first date?" I asked, trying to act cool to the revelation that the girl I loved, the girl I'd just been making out and playing with had been out on a date with another guy.

Beth laughed. "What would you LIKE me to say to that?" She asked.

I was stuck for words. She'd read me like a book. "I honestly have no idea" I said.

She lowered he voice a little.

"Would you like it if I said we'd ended up in bed shagging? And if I told you about the whole sordid story, step-by-step later on? Somewhere a little more private?"

I froze. Part of me wanted Beth back as my exclusive, loving girlfriend. But another part of me wanted her to do exactly as she'd just suggested.

She laughed again and hit me playfully in the chest. "Why am I asking?..." She said, mockingly. "...Of course you would! Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you - on that occasion we didn't end up in bed together..."

I was partly relieved to hear it, but once again the other part of me was simultaneously disappointed.

Beth continued.

"...We did make out though... and stuff..." She added, again playing with my senses. "...but not much more than that. What I mean is... we didn't go all the way."

That left plenty of room for my imagination.

"Right, sounds like it went well then. I assume you've seen him again?"

"Babe, we've seen each other every day this week at work, silly."

"Yeah of course, I just thought that maybe you'd seen him for another drink or something, never mind."

She giggled again "Err... well, that too."

"What? Are you being serious? I can never tell if you're being serious."

"I am. Honesty remember. We've been on another..." She paused, counting with her fingers.

"...three dates since then. He's a really nice guy. He's single which helps compared to Tom! And you'll be pleased to know he's not 40. He's 26, very sweet and we're getting on really well so far - Alva was right, we're a great match, we've got loads in common!" She confessed chirpily.

Fucking Alva, I thought. Why did she have to go and stick her ginger, freckly, beautiful, fuckable face into my excuse for a relationship.