Red Hot

It was frosty around our house as we co-existed the next few days. I refused to have meals with Harris. I did entertain his pleas for some alternatives to stay together, but completely shot him down. When Monday night of the next week rolled around and I showed him -- but didn't have him officially served -- the divorce papers, along with a draft suit against Ashley for alienation of affection (a totally bogus suit not only because that is not an actionable tort in our state, but also because Bill and I had a deal that neither of us would pursue such a cause, although we might serve one just for effect) and asked where he wanted formal service, he actually broke down and cried.

I gave him no quarter.

He finally regained his equanimity and mumbled "If I agree to your proposal will it be for just one night with Voorhees, and will you not file for divorce."

"Sure," I lied; he had lied to me for more than a year, so I had no reason to tell him the truth.

Over the next ten days I asked him once a day "Have you arranged it yet?"

"I swear that I'm working on it but it's hard," was his typical response. Then one day he followed that statement up with "One thing that would help is if I could show him a nude photo of you."

"OK," I chuckled, "but NOT a digital photo, a print in a locked transparent case which will be returned to me as soon as you show it to him." I had already prepared for this, and had found a transparent case that would merely provide a white-out if what was in it was attempted to be photographed.

To rub it in with Harris I had Bill, not Harris, take two naked photos of me, one facing out of each of the main faces of the case. I was pleased to see Bill's eyes get wide and sweat to form on his brow as he took the photos, and that he was unable to utter a complete sentence as he looked at me while I slowly got dressed after he took them.

I'm not exactly sure how Harris did it (Derek must like hard bodies), but three days after I gave him the photos, sweating profusely and in a meek voice, Harris stammered "I...I...uh...got Derek to agree. He's...uh...available next Monday night; I'll get a room at the Four...uh...Seasons. Uh...are you really going to do it?"

"What," I snarled, "you think that you can fuck Ashley for a year and I won't go through with this? I'm expecting the best sex of my life, you bastard, and don't ask again if I'm going to go through with it. Just give me a key to the room and tell me when to meet him -- after you sign this statement," I said as I dropped a one page contract on the kitchen table which had been drafted by my attorney. The contract said that me doing what he had arranged would have no effect whatsoever if either of us ever filed for divorce.

While I didn't really have a lot of faith in Harris pulling my tryst off, I like to be prepared. Therefore I had searched a couple of hours on the Internet, and found many articles about Derek during his time as a star on the NC baseball team, including two that mentioned his college girlfriend. She had a distinctive name and I was able to track her down and talk to her on the phone. The only reason that he and she had broken up was that she did not want the life of a major (or minor) league baseball player's wife and it was clear that's what he was going to be probably for at least fifteen years.

Derek's college girlfriend told me two interesting things about him. 1) Even though he is a super-stud he is humble and does not have the confidence in his sexual prowess that his ability deserves. 2) He has a phobia about contracting STDs and that even though they were exclusive they both took tests every few months, so unless I had an STD free test he would use a condom -- not my ideal.

***************

Surprisingly, Monday morning Harris delivered to me a keycard to suite 1725 of the Four Seasons. "Derek would like to meet you at 5:00 p. m. for dinner at the Four Seasons," he squeaked in a voice as weak as that of a mouse.

"Give me $140 to cover the expected cost of the meal," I replied while holding out my hand; he did.

After Harris left I took the rest of the day off and got a massage, a crotch haircut, a pedicure, manicure, and facial. I wanted to leave for the Four Seasons from our house to rub it in Harris' nose, but my spa trip ran over so I went straight to the Four Seasons.

Up close, Derek was even more handsome and hunky than I thought. As expected he was no dummy since he graduated from N. C. Chapel Hill; what did surprise me was that he was extremely charming and funny.

Derek tried to inquire about my arrangement with Harris but I shot him down. Holding one of his hands and staring into his sexy azure eyes I said "We're not going to talk about that, Derek. The way that you should look at this is that someone gifted you a high-priced call girl for the night that you can do anything you want to as long as you don't hurt her, and you don't even have to care about whether or not she orgasms." The reason I said that was to relieve any "performance pressure" that he might have, as I was warned by his ex-girlfriend. Then I continued "Do you think that you can do that?"

A smile wider than the Mississippi River came over his face. "I can do that," he chuckled.

"Also, I want you to know that no condoms are necessary; here is a receipt from my doctor dated last month that I received my three-month birth control shot, and a lab report from just two days ago that I am free of STDs."

He smiled even wider, but said nothing.

Derek and I had a very pleasant dinner conversation; I was only three years older than he was so it wasn't like we were in a different generation, so we had lots to talk about. It seemed easy for both of us to develop the feeling that this was just another first date between people who wanted to be with each other, the only thing different being that I was a sure thing. After a light dinner to digest our food we held hands as we walked around the beautiful grounds of the Four Seasons, and an adjacent park, where some kids were having a pickup baseball game, and some young adults were playing volleyball.

After a leisurely forty five minute walk we were back just outside the Four Seasons' front door. "It's time to get your money's worth from your high price call girl," I whispered into his ear and then planted a quick kiss on his lips. Apparently that was the right thing to say because his smile was even wider than his earlier ones.

When we got up to 1725, the suite Harris had rented for us, I playfully pushed Derek down on the main couch, knelt, and took his shoes and socks off, lightly rubbing my fingers over his bare skin. Then I stood up, kicked my high heels off, grabbed his hands, and pulled him upright. I slowly and erotically unbuttoned his shirt making complimentary or carnal sounds as I did so. Once I had his shirt off I threw it aside and held my arms out as an invitation for him to undo my blouse buttons.

Next came his undershirt and my bra, then his pants and my skirt. When my skirt dropped I said "Oops; no panties," and then quickly pulled down his boxers, revealing a rock hard perfect aspect ratio uncut cock. "Yummy," I drooled as I got down on my knees and shoved as much cock into my mouth as would fit.

When I engulfed his cock, Derek's groan was primeval. After only a few seconds, however, he pulled me to my feet. "I'll blow way too soon if your sexy mouth is on my cock and I don't want to waste one by cumming in your mouth instead of your pussy." With that he swiftly scooped me up, carried me over to the California king-size four poster bed, and tossed me on the luxurious bedspread. Then he went after my pussy like a man possessed.

I thought that this was supposed to be about him; apparently he had other ideas because he brought me through two screaming orgasms before he went for the main course. As he sucked one nipple, twisted the other with his right hand, and squeezed my muscular ass cheek with his left hand, he ever so slowly buried his hog in my now well-lubricated channel. It was absolutely enchanting.

Each of his thrusts into my snug pussy sent electric charges through my entire body. I wrapped my muscular thighs around his waist the best that I could, with my fingertips (not my fingernails) clawed his back, and I pulsed my Kegel-exercise-enhanced pc muscles so that they acted like a milking machine on his cock. Since I was in ecstasy I can't be sure how long our fuck lasted, but it was extremely intense so that we both were profusely sweating when he started ejaculating into my pussy with an animal grunt following each discharge. I came like a B-52 taking off and clamped down even harder on his pulsating cock as an all-consuming orgasm wracked my entire body. I temporarily lost consciousness.

When I regained my faculties Derek's cock was now very leisurely reciprocating in and out of my abused pussy, and I rubbed his back -- forcefully with one hand, lightly with the other, as we lay interlocked. Eventually he pulled out and rolled to the side, I squashed my tits against his upper chest, and planted dozens of quick kisses on his lips as he chortled a series of interjections like "Holy shit," "I'll never recover," and "what the fuck did you do to me?"

Between kisses I mumbled "You removed my spine," "my entire body is tingling," and "I actually passed out from sensory overload."

After some long term bliss Derek said "We're both too sweaty. Let's take the bedspread off the bed, take a shower, and then get under the covers."

"Sounds good to me," I grinned.

The shower stall was ornate with multiple shower heads at different heights. We got the water lukewarm and then soaped each other up. Although laughing or giggling (I normal don't, but did then) we actually rinsed each other off -- until after I stroked his cock enough that it came to life he stuck a finger into my pussy, causing me to groan like an old truck going up a mountain.

Derek picked me up like I weighed nothing, pushed my back against one wall of the shower stall as I wrapped my legs around him, and wiggled his cock up my pussy. I had never had a partner strong enough to fuck me like this before. It was heavenly. I again came so hard that I temporarily lost consciousness -- fortunately Derek didn't otherwise we both would have fallen on the tile floor.

I regained some cognizance as he dried me off with a fluffy towel, again picked me up and carried me to our four poster bed, and then snuggled with me under the covers, completely engulfing me in his arms with his now deflated cock resting in my ass crack.

I had a reality even better than my best dream when in the middle of the night Derek's fingers energized my pussy, then he snaked his cock up it while we were still spooning and he massaged one of my tits. This time we had quieter but much longer lasting orgasms, and once our orgasmic euphoria passed immediately fell back to sleep.

I almost never sleep past 6:30 a. m. When my eyes finally opened the next morning -- still in the same position as during my dreamy fuck in the middle of the night -- it was light in the room and the beside clock read 8:37. I slithered out of bed, did my business and took a quick shower and returned to the bed. Derek was sitting up on the bed with a shit-eating grin. As he got up to go into the bathroom I pushed my naked body into his; "I'm not done with you yet," I growled as I gently squeezed his balls.

"Woe is me," he sighed. He returned shortly after I heard the shower stop running. I was standing naked by the bed. I pushed him down on the mattress then straddled his legs and started sucking his cock and massaging his balls.

Once his cock was to my liking and standing straight up, I slowly moved my pussy over it, enjoying the pleasant sensation of each inch of penetration. Once his cock was buried I bounced up and down on him like I was on a bungee cord pinching his nipples as I yelled "Let your whore do all the work you spineless bastard."

Derek had a "fuck this is great" look on his face as the only activity he engaged in was pinching my nipples as I fucked him like a crazed prostitute. His look changed, however, just before he came. He pulled my torso down flat onto his, bucked upwardly a few times while I continued to bounce up and down, and then we both came like freight trains on the same track.

I lost consciousness for a short period for the third time that night/morning after it had happened to me only twice before. I lay on top of Derek, stroking his face and shoulders while he stroked the sides of my tits, while we mumbled sweet nothings and fell asleep again. I snapped awake some time later, looked at the clock which said 10:32 and then poked Derek in the ribs.

"Wake up, Rip Van Winkle," I cackled. "Checkout time is 11:00 a. m. so get your ass out of bed."

We both straggled out of bed and used the hotel-supplied toothbrushes and mouth wash while naked next to each other. "How about another quick shower," Derek grinned.

"Hell no -- my poor little kitty won't recover from being abused by your snake for a week; plus I love the feel of your cum in my V-jay and hope that it will leak out the whole day, each milliliter of leakage reminding me of last night and this morning," I replied, then gave him a quick kiss on the lips and a quick squeeze of his balls.

Since we had no luggage to pack we got down to the checkout desk by 11:01, and then went into the restaurant to have brunch. We had an entirely upbeat conversation, occasionally holding hands or pushing our legs into contact with each other. When we both realized that we had places to be and it was getting close to 1 p. m., he insisted on paying "Since you embarrassed me by paying for dinner last night" and we got up to leave.

Outside the hotel we embraced. I looked him in the eye and said "Last night was supposed to be only about you; but it ended up being more about me; I'm sorry."

Derek genuinely laughed. "This must be some alternate universe where a red hot woman gives me the time of my life and then apologizes. The vision of your body and face are burned into my Id to remain forever," he chuckled.

We gave each other a quick kiss then he said/asked "So it's back to your husband now as a faithful wife?"

"That's what I told him," I smiled. I answered his question that way for two reasons. The first was that I didn't want to lie to him and tell him that I was going back to Harris, because I was divorcing his ass. The second reason was because my time with Derek had been so delicious for both of us that I was afraid that he would want to hook up again. I probably would have been too weak to resist and I didn't want to cheat on Harris. Until the divorce was final I would not be fucking anyone else (without Harris' permission and facilitation, like with Derek) since I did not want to sink to Harris' level, therefore I wanted to be sure that Derek was discouraged.

We gave each other one more passionate kiss, and then I moved away, of necessity walking more bowlegged that I would have liked, but the slight nerve pulses from overworked pussy that should have been aggravating actually reminded me of probably my best sexual experience ever. While I had a number of great experiences with Harris none was better than the one with Derek even though I wasn't in love with Derek (although it may not have taken much to fall in love with him).

************

I was really pleased by how humiliated Harris was by my night with Derek. I coyly didn't provide details to Harris, but smiled wickedly. Fantastic revenge accomplished!

I did give Harris a few mercy fucks over the next two weeks while I concluded negotiations for a new job in Washington, D. C., far away from my present location. I also made arrangements for a storage facility there, and a moving company, and I rented a condo in Norther Virginia for a few months.

Harris was surprised and really pissed when I had him served with divorce papers fifteen days after my overnight with Derek, and told him that all communications would be through my attorney and that I was leaving town. This time instead of begging he ranted calling me a liar and Jezebel. It had no effect on me, and I was driving to D. C. within an hour of him being served. He should have been happy that I filed on the basis of irreconcilable differences rather than adultery, and asked for only a fifty-fifty split of assets (I had already removed my 50% of liquid assets).

The ink had only been dry on my divorce decree for a couple of months when on a Saturday I was cleaning my rental condo in Northern Virginia. My new job was really working out and I was planning on moving to a facier place sometime during the next month. I had dated a few times after my divorce was final, but no one rang my chimes, nor were they interesting or discrete enough for even a one night stand.

In old shorts, a worn tank top, and dirty slippers, with my hair undone and no makeup on, as I was giving my condo a long overdue cleaning my doorbell rang. Since I lived in a safe area I opened the door without first looking through the peephole -- had I looked through the peephole I may not have opened it up considering how ugly I had to look at that time.

"Derek!?!" I almost shrieked when I saw who had rung my doorbell.

"Hi sexy Everleigh," he grinned, "You look great."

The poor boy must have lost his eyesight -- I wondered if that meant he could no longer play baseball.

"What...why...uh...what...are you...uh...doing here?" I stammered.

"Let me in and I'll tell you," he grinned.

I moved away from blocking the entrance, he entered and gave me a big hug, and then we both sat down on a couch in my living room.

"The answer to your question has many parts," he started out with a grin that seemed to get wider. "The first part is that I was promoted to the Major Leagues, and traded to the Washington Nationals after signing a five year contract. I have a new luxury condo less than a mile from here. The second reason is that I finally tracked you down. I had my agent monitor the court records and found that you filed for divorce, so I had him start looking for you. Fortunately, your name is unique enough -- I never knew an Everleigh before even if your married and maiden surnames aren't that unusual -- that I located you about a week before I signed my contract. I recently got back from spring training and home opening day is tomorrow. I have a ticket for you that I hope that you'll use."

"Why...why...did you track me down?" I mumbled.

Derek laughed. "If you have to ask that you must be the best actress in the world because it appeared to me that you enjoyed yourself the first time we met as much as I did. To put it simply I want a relationship with you."

I paused for a moment, and then said "A relationship, not a one night stand or fuck buddy?"

"Yes...a relationship. I love your personality as much as your appearance and considering that you gave me the best sex of my life the last thing that I want is another one night stand. It would ruin me for all other women in the future and probably ruin my career since I would be agonizing too much about not being with you."

I gulped hard. "Do you really think that I'm sexy looking like I do today, or was that just an offhand comment to get into my panties?"

"You're actually worried about how you look today?" he chortled. Then while still grinning but also serious he said "The answer to your question is yes to both; I think that you look incredibly sexy just the way you are, and I also dearly want to get into your panties."

I'm not exactly sure how what happened next actually transpired. I do know that it was shortly after that statement that I was naked on my back on my bed with Derek's marvelous cock bringing me to an earth-shattering orgasm. By the end of the day I knew what I wanted, and that Derek was Mr. Right for me.