Picture Perfect Ch. 02

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Emma receives an unexpected text from her ex husband.
4.3k words
3.9
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Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/11/2023
Created 04/12/2022
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A big thank you to everyone for their comments and feedback on my first story. The positive feedback encouraged me to write a continuation, hoping to turn this into a series. Note that this is a direct continuation of my first story, "Picture Perfect". I highly recommend you read that one first!

All characters in this story are above 18 years of age.

Enjoy!

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I received a text from my ex husband today.

"Hey, Emma! How have you been? How about we grab a cup of coffee sometime?"

I'm not sure why I find this so infuriating. Perhaps it's his nonchalant tone, or his complete lack of acknowledgement regarding the reason we broke up. Banging your secretary is not exactly the kind of thing you can ignore when you reach out to your ex wife. But Mike was always this kind of guy. His lack of self awareness is not the least bit surprising. I have no idea what he wants from me. To make amends perhaps?

Anyway, I don't intend to grace him with a reply. It's been over a year since I last saw him, and I have felt no need to reconnect with him in the meantime. It's not like we broke up on good terms either. We had met up in a coffee shop in a futile attempt to keep things civil, but the last thing I remember is an ashtray flying past his head and smashing into a decorative glass vase on the other side of the room.

I'm not exactly proud of that. But, what can I say, he had his ways to get this kind of reactions out of me.

Besides, my dry spell with regards to my love life ended quite recently. It's been almost a week since the incident with James in my studio, when a simple photography session evolved into something beyond my wildest dreams. Aside from reinvigorating my dormant desire for love, it provided a major boost to my self confidence as well. If I can get with such a handsome man in his mid-twenties who could literally have any woman he set his sights on, then why on Earth would I even need the approval of a guy like Mike?

But still, I wanted something more from James. Our meeting didn't end with a promise to meet again, or even the expectation that this would become a reoccurring event. There was an unspoken mutual understanding that this was a one-time thing. That being said, I kept checking my phone throughout the week, hoping that I would find a message or a missed call from him. Instead of that, I get a message from Mike. Talk about a disappointment.

I could have just let it go and moved on with my life. It's not like I can't find another man. However, my curiosity got the best of me. Over the past week, I have been doing a little online stalking. I realize that's quite unbecoming of a woman my age, but I couldn't help it. Besides, I'm not hurting anyone. Finding James' Instagram account was quite easy--and, I have to admit, I couldn't resist the urge to spend some quality time by myself with some of the photos he has posted on there. Some shirtless beach photos from his last year's summer vacation, in particular.

But, more importantly, I learned an interesting bit of information: James is taking part in a theatrical play. It's in a small nearby theatre, just a five minute walk from my apartment. The play itself seems like an artistic modern day reimagining of Miss Julie, the kind that theatre school graduates consider avant-garde and revolutionary. To be honest, I doubt it's going to be any good. But that's not important right now. I don't intend to watch the play, not yet at least. But I do intend to pay him a little visit.

Of course, I'm not going to leave anything to chance. As always, I'm a woman with a plan. The play finishes at around 11 PM. I'm going to wait outside the theater--not directly outside, but just far enough that I can observe while going unnoticed. Then, when everyone is done with their congratulations and the typical pleasantries that follow every theatrical play, I'm going to approach James so that we can have a little one-on-one chat.

One of my core beliefs in life is that my appearance is extremely important. It should always be appropriate so that I can get what I want. It has to be picture perfect.

I wear a white shirt, with the top two buttons strategically unbuttoned of course, and a short beige skirt. When I'm at my studio, my primary goal is to be the most professional I could possibly be. I want to be the best in the business. But now, my goal is a little bit different. The only things I'm keeping in common with the first time he saw me are my trademark blond hair tied behind my head and my deep red lipstick.

I arrive outside the theater a few minutes before 11. I find a nice little spot in the shade, where I can hide until it's time to make my appearance. Hiding in this place isn't too hard. It's not like the street is well lit. There are no street lights, and the only light that falls on the cobblestone pavement and the faded paint on the nearby building walls comes from the purple and blue neon signs above each store and billboard.

Finally, the time has come. A group of people, around twenty of them, emerge from the theater. And at last, my eye catches James. He seems even sexier this time, partially because of the inevitable adrenaline rush that follows a theatrical performance. I wait patiently as the people congratulate him and his co-stars. I remember when I used to do this kind of stuff when I was trying to do some networking and establish my presence in Los Angeles. It all seems so artificial now.

I wait until everyone has left. It's just James and his female co-star now. I'm just going to wait until they part ways and--

No. It can't be.

I think I see his hand around her waist. I can even discern a slight giggle on her face. Now he's pushing her against the wall and kissing her on the neck.

I can't stand to look at this. I turn around and leave as fast as I can.

What happened? He now seems much more confident compared to when he came to my studio. Is this my fault? Was I just a tool to help him build up his self confidence? Was this thing going on before we met or did it start after our little entanglement?

Lots of questions are running through my mind. Why did he fuck me? Was it because he really liked me, or was it just for the novelty of being with a woman almost twice his age?

And just like that, I feel my confidence boost dissipating. It wasn't very long lived after all.

I get back to my apartment and I slam the door shut behind me. I get undressed, I drop my clothes on the floor and I lie down on my soft, comfortable bed. I let out a deep sigh. It's safe to say that today didn't go as planned.

And as I'm lying down, in a momentary lack of impulse control and against all logic and rational thought, I grab my phone and I open Mike's message.

I type out my answer. "Where do you want to meet?"

Without thinking about it, I hit Send and I try to fall asleep.

Next morning, I am awoken by the rays of sun coming through the window blinds. Seems to be a sunny day today. Of course, the weather isn't what I'm interested in. I grab my phone. The time is barely past 8 AM. But, more importantly, there's a message notification from Mike. I open it immediately.

"I'll be in my office today. How about you come here at around 10 o'clock?"

Well. That's a strange choice. I was pretty sure he would suggest a coffee shop or a wine bar. Of course, as proven in our last meeting, it's entirely possible that our meeting might spiral into chaos, even in a public place.

"Fine. See you there." I hit send.

To be honest, I'm not quite sure what he wants. I don't expect him to try to rekindle things between us. Mostly because he knows that this has no chance of happening. Maybe he just wants to catch up. But I know him well enough to realize he probably has something else in mind. I pick up my clothes from the floor and I put them on again. It's a pity to let such a nice outfit go to waste. Besides, I know how sexy I look in these clothes. I want him to see what he lost when he let me go.

His office is in a fifteen story building in the outskirts of Los Angeles. Mike owns a small film production company that has financed some successful independent films over the years and he's made quite a name out of himself. When we were together, by most definitions of the term, we were a power couple.

I arrive outside the building where Mike's office is located. I have always had the feeling that the businesses hosted in this building were punching above their weight. It's an ultra modern building with dark glass panes for windows, and a minimal aesthetic for which I have no doubt that an interior designer was paid too much for. I go through the rotating glass door and I take the elevator to the sixteenth floor, to Mike's office.

It's an exterior glass elevator, the kind where you can admire the view of the city as you ascend to your daily grind after your boring commute. If nothing else, I can admire the view without any of these requirements.

I arrive at the sixteenth floor and I go through the front door of Mike's company office. My sight immediately falls on Susan's face.

Susan. The woman who caused the downfall of our marriage. A short, dark-haired woman with a pixie cut, whose only discernible characteristic is her pair of tits which she doesn't omit to let practically hanging out of her low-cut blouse. Based on the times I've talked with her, I'm pretty sure there's nothing much going on behind those green eyes, in that round-shaped head of hers.

A pair of tits. That's what Mike threw our marriage away for.

As soon as she sees me she sits up, taking a position of high alert, her hand under her desk, no doubt ready to call security in case I decide to try something funny. She can rest assured, I have no desire to try anything of the sort.

"What do you want?" she says in her distinctly southern accent.

I sigh. "Calm down, Susan. I don't want any trouble. I've got to see Mike."

"See Mike?" she continues, unconvinced. "What for?"

"None of your business. He's expecting me."

Sarah lifts the office phone and dials a number. She covers her mouth and whispers. "Mike, your ex wife is here. She says you're expecting her."

I can see the surprise in her eyes as he delivers his confirmation of this statement.

She shrugs. "Go ahead. All yours."

I go towards his office without saying another word to Susan. I don't intend to get involved in a catfight under these circumstances. I open Mike's office door and, I have to admit, the sight makes me step back a little.

Mike had undeniably developed a beer gut over the past few years. I always found it unattractive, but I didn't care enough to encourage him to lose it. But the man I see in front of me is quite different. At least thirty pounds lighter than I remembered, wearing a well-fitted suit, with a well trimmed grey beard and a combover. What can I say, the man has cleaned up his act.

"Emma," he says. "I have to admit, I'm a little surprised. I didn't expect you to show up."

"That makes two of us. Now tell me, what's this all about?"

He smiles. "Cutting right to the chase. I like it."

"Cut the crap, Mike. Tell me what's going on."

He approaches, and stops three feet away from me. "Emma... I believe I owe you an apology."

"An apology? That's what this is all about?"

"Well, sort of."

"Don't get any ideas!" I say firmly, as I raise my hand, preventing him from coming any closer.

He takes a step back. "I just want to talk, okay? No funny business."

I cross my arms. "Alright then. I'm listening."

He takes a deep breath. "As I said, I owe you an apology. I didn't treat you right, I let myself go, and I wasn't the man you truly deserved."

"That's not why we broke up and you know it. How about we address the elephant in the room--or should I say, the elephant behind the secretary's desk?"

He chuckles. "I missed your sense of humor, you know that?"

I remain silent, my arms still crossed.

"Okay then," he continues. "What happened between me and Sarah was a mistake. It should have never happened."

Now I'm getting angry. "If you realize that something is a mistake, you don't keep doing it for ten years."

"Right, yes, yes. I'm trying to make things right, okay?"

"I'm not sure that's even possible."

"I have to be honest with you. When you left me, that's when I realized what I'd truly lost. I cut it off with Sarah right after you left me. I wanted to talk to you sooner, but I wanted to show you that I've become a different man. That's why I never called you during the past year."

He takes a step closer. "I miss you, Emma."

I roll my eyes. "So what do you want me to do?"

He comes closer, probably feeling encouraged by my inaction. He passes his arm around my neck and gives me a hug.

But, along with that, I feel his other hand trying to caress my crotch.

"For fuck's sake, Mike," I whisper.

"If you tell me to stop, I'll stop."

I sigh. "Whatever. Go ahead."

Normally, I should just give him a nice, hard slap on the cheek and get it done with. But there are two things preventing me from doing that. First, the incident with James last night. When I saw him with that other woman, I lost whatever self confidence I earned after what happened between us last week in my studio. The fact that Mike is apparently making a conscious effort to win me back is, admittedly, a good step towards restoring that confidence.

And second, the fact that Sarah is right behind the closed office door. I'm pretty sure, the fact that I'm alone with Mike in his office is making her green with envy. I've never been a vindictive woman, but the thought of getting back to her like that seems quite appealing.

Mike lifts my skirt and starts rubbing my pussy with his index and middle finger.

"Everything good?" he whispers in my ear.

"Shut up and go on."

So he does. First he rubs me lightly, starting to make me wet. Then, when he senses that I'm ready, he slides his middle finger inside my pussy, and moves it softly in and out, speeding up his movement as he senses me getting wetter. He wasn't lying when he said he was a changed man. He'a never been that good with his fingers.

Of course, I'm pretty sure he got some practice with Sarah. But I'd rather not think about that right now.

I feel my heart beating faster. I try to mumble something, still in disbelief about the fact that I'm letting Mike get so close to me. But I don't even know what to say.

When he sees that I have pretty much dropped my defenses, he takes a few steps back. He unbuttons his belt, he pulls down his pants and reveals his cock. I got to admit, I'm a little impressed. His weight loss makes it appear a little longer than I remembered it. Not to mention, it's harder than I had seen it in ten years.

I'm still kind of shocked with his audacity. "If you think I'm going to suck your dick, you're gravely mistaken."

"No need for that," he says. "As you see, I'm ready."

"Ready for what?"

"For whatever you want us to do."

I roll my eyes. "I can't even stand to look you in the eye."

He smirks. "But Emma, there's so much we can do without even making eye contact."

I groan. As long as I've known him, he always said crap like that.

He pulls an armless leather chair from the glass table in front of his desk and sits, his cock completely hard, and he opens his arms invitingly.

He makes a downward gesture. "As I said. No eye contact."

Still somewhat reluctantly, I approach him and turn my back towards him. I stand over him and bend my knees, holding his cock with my hand, guiding it inside my pussy as I sit on his lap. It slides in quite easily. I have to admit, the bastard did a pretty good job making me wet.

I start moving up and down, his cock slowly moving in and out of me. Even though I've had sex with him countless times before, this just feels wrong. Sure, I wanted to get James out of my mind, but perhaps this wasn't a very good idea. I would even go as far as to say, it feels kind of disgusting. I can't shake off the feeling that the cock that's inside me right now has been in Sarah's cunt before. I try to imagine James in Mike's place. It makes this whole thing more tolerable.

It should have been James' cock inside me, not Mike's.

But as time goes on, I find James' image fading away from my mind. I bounce a little bit faster on his lap, my ass cheeks slapping against his thighs, faster and harder the more I go on.

There was a time long ago when we loved each other. That time is long gone. But I'd be lying if I said that this doesn't bring back some pleasant memories from a simpler time.

I let out a soft moan. Part of me doesn't want him to realize that I'm starting to enjoy this. I'm actually pretty surprised about that myself. Just a few minutes ago, I didn't want this man to look me in the eye, much less get his cock inside me. But I can't help it. My moans start getting louder, and I even let out a few high-pitched shrieks.

And then there's that bitch of a secretary, sitting just outside the office. I start consciously making my moans and screams even louder, just to make sure that she's listening. I want her to realize that it's me who gets the best performance out of Mike. I'm better than her. I'm the one who should be draining the cum from Mike's balls, not her.

I feel Mike's hands caressing the sides of my waist, lightly at first, but then he grabs me tight. So for I have been bouncing up and down on Mike's rock hard cock, sliding it in and out of me as I get wetter and wetter. But now, he's guiding my movement with his hands and helps my movements become even faster, my ass slamming against his thighs even harder.

I still feel like it's wrong to give him the satisfaction of letting him fuck me again, especially after everything that he's done to me. But the thought that this is happening while Sarah is listening to everything was just too tempting to pass up.

Not to mention, this is turning out to be more enjoyable than I could have imagined.

He leans forward and whispers in my ear. "How about a change of scenery?"

"What do you mean?"

He stands me up, making a gesture towards the window. "The view over the city is quite beautiful, don't you think?"

"You can't be serious."

"Does it look like I'm joking?"

I let out a deep sigh. "Fine. But I'm still not making eye contact with you."

He chuckles. "No need for that."

After what's happened so far, I don't feel like backing down. Not now that I'm getting into it. I walk to the window and I bend over, pressing my palms on the glass, sticking my ass up high.

The view over the city is indeed impressive from this height. The morning sun rays fall over every building, short and tall, the various colorful elements of this beautiful city creating a nice contrast with the clear blue sky.

And then, I feel Mike's cock sliding inside me once again.

He grabs my thighs tightly as he slams his body hard against my ass cheeks, as I hold my resistance against the glass window pane. I feel like closing my eyes, but I don't. I've never been fucked with such a view before. This is admittedly a rather unique experience. As his thrusts keep getting harder and faster, I resume my over-the-top moans, making sure they are audible to Sarah, which I feel are making him even harder as he keeps going.

"You know I still hate you, right?" I mumble between moans.

"I know. But I'm hoping to change that."

He lifts his hand and gives me a hard slap on my right ass cheek. I shout in satisfaction, which encourages him to slap again, even harder.

My shrieks get even louder.

I'm pretty sure this is going to leave a big red mark on my ass tomorrow. But I don't really care. I told Mike to do that so many times over the past years, but he never did. Better late than never, I guess.

Finally, he grabs my ass cheeks tight and pulls my body tightly close to his, as he blows his load inside me.

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