Promises Broken

* * * * *

For several weeks afterward, Debbie found herself hurrying home from work, so she would have time to masturbate before her husband came home. The few times in that span that she and Paul actually made love were unremarkable. Once she came, once she came close and the other times were good, but not that good. She had driven by Kyle's house a couple of times as well. His truck was not there either time, but she told herself she wouldn't have stopped anyway.

As the electric thrill of the episode slowly faded, Debbie's mind began to wander to fantasies involving Kyle. Mostly they were variations on what she had already seen of him with other women, but occasionally she imagined scenarios that included herself. These always made her just a little uncomfortable. She told herself it was because she had cheated on her husband with this man and such daydreams naturally made her feel guilty. But part of her suspected it was because it was dangerous to think like that. What would happen when imagining it wasn't enough anymore? Then what? Yes, it definitely scared her a bit.

It was during this period of fantasy and masturbation that Paul's company sent him out of town for a couple of days. Debbie knew she had to stop what she was doing, that she couldn't keep peeking in Kyle's window and masturbating while thinking of him. At the same time, Paul being away seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up. She rationalized that she needed to get this out of her system while he was gone, so when he came back, she could give him the attention he deserved.

The first night Paul was gone, Debbie drove past Kyle's house no less than four times, but his truck was gone and the lights out every time. The next she drove by a couple more times but he wasn't home then either. She masturbated at least twice each day as she remembered what she had seen before. But it wasn't the same. It wasn't enough. She was surprised at how disappointed she felt. Did it mean that much to her to watch two people have sex? Was she that much of a voyeur?

Or did it have something to do with Kyle and the way he excited her? She thought about how she had always resented him for his womanizing, even though he was never anything but respectful to her. After their one night together, she had a better understanding of just why women responded to him the way they did. It didn't help though that she now found herself in that category. He was an arrogant bastard that could seemingly get any woman to do anything for him that he wanted. What burned Debbie the most about it was that she was not immune to him. She had been a willing participant in the movement to please Kyle. She was alternately angry and excited when she recalled that moment when she first saw his cock, first tasted it. She couldn't believe she had let him have what she wanted, and that angered her. But on the other hand, it had been so good. Had she ever been more turned on than when she got down on her knees for him and sucked that incredible cock of his?

Now Debbie's husband was due home tomorrow and Kyle was still not home. He must have found a single woman, Debbie sneered to herself. She took a deep breath and decided it was probably for the best that she hadn't seen him again. Maybe she could put all this nonsense behind her now and get back to a normal life. When she got home, she went to bed without masturbating and felt better for it. This whole thing was something she wasn't proud of, but it was over.

* * * * * "Hi, babe, it's me," said Paul's voice on the answering machine the next night. "My flight's been cancelled, so, uh, I guess I'm stuck here another day. They're going to try to get us on the 8 AM flight tomorrow as stand-bys, but if not, they can definitely get us on the 5:45 tomorrow night. I'll give you a call in the morning to let you know. Love you."

Debbie sat and stared at the answering machine. Her resolve of the previous evening seemed to vanish with the device's final beep. She sat there telling herself that she couldn't, wouldn't—but fearing at the same time that there was no stopping it. After all, what was the harm? He hadn't been home the first two nights, so he probably would be out again tonight.

God, how could that bastard have gotten inside her head like this? The fact that she felt her loins tingling with anticipation was just salt in the wound. She hung her head, her straight blonde hair falling down all around her face. She shook her head in disbelief. How could she have come to be in such a spot? She didn't even like the fucking guy! I'll go to the mall, she thought, do some shopping and some people watching and just get this crap out of my head.

Debbie grabbed her keys and purse and headed out. The mall wasn't crowded, being dinner time on a weeknight. After she had browsed through all of her favorite stores, she stopped for a burger at the food court and thought about going home. About how she was going to go home. She could loop just a few minutes out of her way and take a quick drive past Kyle's. She knew she wanted to stop herself from doing that. She hated that she kept thinking about it. And hated that she was powerless to prevent herself from making that little detour.

As Debbie turned onto Kyle's street, she felt a flutter in her belly. She told herself that he probably wasn't even home, and, even if he was, it was too early for him to be doing anything all that interesting. Nevertheless, her pulse quickened. Then Debbie saw his truck in the driveway and a wave of heat shot through her whole body. Relax, she scolded herself. She knew there was really no reason to be expecting much.

She parked a little further up the street than usual, and took a few extra deep breaths before getting out of the car. There hadn't been another car in the driveway or parked out front, so her chances of getting to see Kyle in action were pretty low. But still she felt an almost electric tingle running through her.

She stole silently into the back yard and made her way carefully to the den window. The light and the TV were on, but she didn't see Kyle. She craned her neck, trying to find an angle that would allow her to see into the adjoining room. The she heard a sound behind her.

"Debbie?"

She whirled around to find Kyle standing there. She blushed furiously, her heart now racing, knees suddenly shaking.

"I… uh, um…" she gestured futilely in the direction of her car, but no words came out. What the hell could she say to explain why she was in his yard, creeping around like a criminal? He looked at her, waiting for an explanation, but she had none and couldn't even come up with a remotely plausible story at this point. After watching her stammer and gesture for a few moments, he shrugged and pointed to the side door.

"Want to come in and talk about it?" Kyle asked. If he was upset at all by Debbie's unexplainable presence in his yard, he certainly didn't show it. Debbie fought the urge to take a deep breath. After a moment, she found her voice.

"Uh, no. I… uh, that's not, I don't think so…" She shook her head for emphasis, avoiding his eyes. She was trying to avoid looking at him at all.

"Are you sure? Anything wrong?" It was Kyle's polite tone of voice, the one he always used around her. Probably the one he used around all the women he wasn't supposed to fuck, she thought, suddenly irritated by it.

"No, I'm fine," she asserted, regaining her composure. She even managed to look up into his face as she said it. Mistake. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he looked back at her, his lips showing just a hint of his ever-present smirk. His eyes and expression unleashed a maelstrom of emotions in Debbie. She hated that smirk and the way he looked at her. That look that said he knew he had what she wanted, needed. But she also felt the desire between her legs flare, her belly flutter and her nipples harden. Involuntarily, her eyes strayed to his crotch. He was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt that revealed nothing and she quickly looked away. But surely he had noticed.

"C'mon," Kyle said and held open the door for her. He gestured inside and she went in without further protest. He indicated for her to have a seat on the couch as he went into the next room. He came back a moment later with a couple of beers and handed one to Debbie. Then he sat down a respectable distance from her on the sofa and looked at her for a moment without saying anything.

"I shouldn't be here," Debbie said suddenly, putting her beer down on the end table. Kyle nodded his mute assent, never taking his eyes off of hers. This was that excitement she had been missing, Debbie realized. This was forbidden fruit, the anticipation, the potential for incredible sex… it was all here, less than three feet away from her. She felt herself burning with the desire for all of that, but paralyzed at the same time by her dignity, her pride as well as her love for her husband and her resentment of the power Kyle was wielding over her.

"So why did you come here?" Kyle asked. It was simply a question, devoid of implications.

"I… I don't know," Debbie lied. "I shouldn't have." She picked up her beer and took a long sip. Kyle nodded again, keeping his attention focused on her. She could feel him reading her. He had to know she was vulnerable. Any minute now he would pounce on her like a cat on a mouse. She was totally surprised when he stood up and turned away from her.

"Maybe it would be better if you left then," Kyle told her. The bottom dropped out of her stomach, like she was going down the first big hill of a roller coaster. All these wars raging within her, and he could just casually tell her to go home? Sure, she thought, clenching her jaw. Any minute now some other tart will stroll through the door and fuck and suck him all night!

Debbie looked up at him. Kyle was watching her with a curiously subdued expression on his face. He must have known that he could have her if he wanted to. But he was choosing to be the strong one, send her home without taking advantage of her in a moment of weakness. Did he truly feel guilty about sleeping with her? Debbie supposed it wasn't impossible, although she hadn't previously thought of him as the type that would care.

She stood and started toward the door. He wasn't looking at her, so she quickly stole another glance at his crotch. Was his cock getting hard? Maybe it was just the folds in his jeans, but it looked like something might be stirring. He opened the door and stood holding it for her. It was decision time, Debbie knew. She stopped in front of him, her eyes on the floor between them.

"Christ, Kyle," she said through her teeth. "You know why I'm here!"

"Which is why you should go," he replied, his voice soft, non-judgmental, but firm. God, was he going to make her beg for it? Debbie slowly lifted her head, her eyes traveling up his muscular body until their eyes met. He looked into her eyes for a long moment before shaking his head. The fucker was refusing her! But there was no anger, Debbie realized, just a horrible feeling of disappointment.

She had felt the desperation of him slipping through her grip before. It had driven her, in a near-panic, to take her blouse off for him. Her fingers once again began to undo the buttons of her top, but Kyle's hands quickly stopped her. He was shaking his head again. The anticipation was getting uncontrollable. Debbie just couldn't walk out the door now. Somewhere she had crossed a line, passed some point of no return.

"Take it out," Debbie whispered.

"No. We can't."

"Yes," she said, gently pulling her hands from his. "Yes," she said again, leaning forward and kissing his chest.

"You know we can't do this," he repeated, but he didn't sound completely convinced himself anymore. Emboldened by this, Debbie slowly lowered herself to her knees before him.

"Take it out," she said again, her face inches from his zipper. Instead, he spun away from her, walking quickly to the other side of the room, one hand grabbing at the hair on the back of his head. He turned back toward her, opening his mouth to say something. No words came out though. He stood still shaking his head, but unable to look away from her.

Debbie remained kneeling on the floor, watching him, savoring his indecision, confident that he wanted her as much as she wanted him right now. She realized that she was still wearing her clothes from work. A khaki skirt that fell above her knees and was starting to get a little tight in the thighs, and a white silk blouse that provided only a hint of the luscious breasts underneath.

Remembering how Donna had looked so beautiful and so vulnerable kneeling on this very floor, Debbie shifted so her knees were together, put her hands in her lap and looked up at Kyle with as open an expression as she knew to give.

"Take it out," she said again, letting a little twinge of pleading creep into her voice. "Take it out and put it in my mouth." She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. He stood rubbing the back of his head, seemingly still indecisive, but Debbie suspected he was just acting at this point. He wanted it too. He must.

Sure enough, with a shrug and a snort, the smirk reappeared and Kyle unbuttoned his jeans. He walked up to Debbie before pulling it out, letting her anticipation build. She was kneeling before him with her mouth open and tongue out like she was about to receive communion. Slowly, he drew his thick cock from his pants and rubbed it on the side of her face. He was already three-quarters erect, Debbie saw, and growing stiffer as he stroked against her cheek.

At long last he was in her mouth again. She sucked him deeply, steadily, enjoying the velvety texture of the head of his cock on her tongue, savoring the throbbing warmth of his shaft between her lips.

"Oh, God, Debbie," he breathed. "You know how to suck a cock." She felt the tingle between her legs at the sound of these words. She closed her eyes and lost herself if the act of pleasing him. When she heard moaning, at first didn't realize that it was coming from her. She made no effort to stop herself though, letting every sensation flow freely through her body.

Sucking Paul's cock was nothing like this. Not only was he smaller in size, but it was like he was too grateful for it. Kyle, on the other hand, could just get some other chickie to blow him. Why Debbie found that thought so stimulating she couldn't say, but it was inspiring her to suck Kyle in a way she would never suck Paul.

She gently licked his balls, rubbed her face on the underside of his shaft and then took him into her mouth again. She took as much of him in as she could, almost three quarters, and looked up into his eyes. He was looking right back at her, clearly enjoying the sight of his cock in her mouth. She worked her tongue under his shaft as she continued to hold him deep in her mouth, her eyes locked on his. Then she wrapped her hand around the base of his member and began sucking hard and fast.

Having seen him with those other girls, she knew he wouldn't cum. But that was okay. It meant she could suck him as long as she wanted. She was totally surprised a few minutes later when she felt his cock tensing and realized he was about to erupt. He gave a Herculean groan and threw his head back. A second later a hot gob of salty cum shot into her mouth, then another and then a third. She tried to swallow, but it was too much. She gagged and tried to swallow again, but the thick cock in her mouth made it difficult. She let him slip from her mouth as she tried to keep from gagging again. He took his cock in his own hand and stroked it, coaxing out one last spurt that fell across Debbie's cheek.

She knelt there, amazed that he had cum so easily for her. Her hand slipped under her skirt, pushed her panties aside and gave her clit the little bit of stimulation she needed to orgasm. Debbie held his cock in her other hand as warm pleasure rushed over her. She felt her own juices on her fingers as she continued to rub herself, savoring every last bit of the feeling.

"Damn, Debbie," he said. "That was… that was…"

"Paul won't be home tonight, Kyle," Debbie said as she unbuttoned her blouse. She pulled open her top, enjoying the way Kyle's eyes fell on her breasts. She knew he preferred women with big tits, and she took the look on his face as a compliment. She stood and guided him over to the sofa, discarding her blouse on the way.

But when she reached up under her skirt to pull off her panties, Kyle stopped her.

"No, I uh…" he looked away. "I have someone coming over."

His words stung her like a slap. She had just given this bastard a blow job—still had his cum on her face—and he was going to send her home so he could fuck some other chickie?!?!

"Asshole!" she spat. "You knew that and you let me?"

"I tried to stop you," he replied as he buttoned up his jeans. "Can I help it if you turn me on?"

"Yeah, sure! You really tried!" Debbie felt like complete trash. Don't cry, she told herself. For God sakes, don't cry in front of him! "You fucking bastard!" She retrieved her blouse and slipped it on. But her hands were shaking and she couldn't button it. The frustration brought the tears closer. She turned away from him, so he wouldn't see them if they did fall.

"Look," said Kyle. "It's not like that. It's just…" His voice trailed off. Debbie knew there was nothing he could say that could change the awful feeling he had just given her. Just a few minutes ago she had been on her knees practically begging this arrogant prick to let her pleasure him! She had swallowed his cum! And now she was being told to leave so he could spend the night fucking someone else?

She felt cheap, dirty and thoroughly humiliated, but there was something else too. Something she didn't want to admit. Wasn't disappointment a factor as well? Sure, the arrogant bastard had used her, but wasn't that what Debbie had wanted? Yeah, he was planning on being with someone else later. So what? Debbie knew he was a womanizer, had seen him with several other women and that hadn't stopped her. The disappointment of not getting that massive cock of his inside her was hurting her at least as much as the slap to her pride. Yes, she had humbled herself to ask for it, but what really hurt was that now she wasn't going to get it.

With a tremendous effort of will, Debbie steadied her hands and buttoned her blouse. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to face Kyle. She wasn't sure exactly what she was going to say, even as the words left her lips.

"You're such a piece of shit for treating me like this," Debbie said quietly without looking at him.

Kyle's gaze was cast down at the floor. "I'm sorry," he offered weakly. He seemed like he wanted to say more, but nothing else came out. Debbie waited, just in case, but Kyle apparently had little to add. She was about to drop a final accusation on him and storm out when she heard the back door open behind her.

"What the fuck is this?" screamed a woman's voice behind her. Debbie whirled around and there was an older brunette standing in the doorway. Debbie recognized her immediately as the one Kyle had once brought to her husband's barbecues.

"Who the fuck is she?" the woman yelled at Kyle, gesturing brusquely in Debbie's direction as she came through the door. "You can't keep it in your pants for one day, even when you know I can come over?"

Debbie watched as Kyle drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. His expression was blank, unreadable, but Debbie could see that the muscles of his jaw were clenched. He'd been caught in the act and Debbie would have liked to see him squirm, but he merely stood there, stone faced and silent. The other woman must have also realized that a frontal assault wasn't going to work on Kyle and turned her fiery eyes on Debbie.