The Ex

I was at a party when I ran into Bryce. It had been several years since I'd seen him and it wouldn't have worried me in the slightest if I hadn't run into him for several more years. Or longer.

Bryce is what is commonly called the Ex. For a few years we had a red hot affair going but we'd finished up splitting apart and going our own ways. He's what is commonly referred to as a Jock. He's into sport, very macho, considers himself an alpha dog surrounded by puppies. That's part of what broke us up. I'm a strong, independent, and intelligent woman. I'm not a kitten to be stroked and then put to one side while the he-man goes and does he-man things.

Towards the end of the relationship things got rather heated between us. I will say one thing for him - he never hit me at all. If he had things would have been over a lot faster, but that bit of forbearance meant that I kept trying to make things work long past the time I should have said sayonara and walked out the door.

After Bryce I met Micky, who was my rebound boy, and subsequent to Micky I met up with and finally married Neale. The current party was being held by one of Neale's friends in celebration of something. I didn't know what and didn't really care.

So here I was at this party and I turn around and there was Bryce, a piece of fluff on his arm.

"Nardia," he exclaimed. "Fancy meeting you here. What are you up to these days?"

"Hullo, Bryce," I said. "Same old, same old. You know how it is. I'm married now. This is Neale."

I proudly presented him, a prize worth winning.

They shook hands and I was pleased to see that Neale gave as good as he got in the hand-crunching exercise. Why do men do that?

"Neale," acknowledged Bryce, sounding quite genial. (Fake of course. He'd rather I was hiding away in a basement bemoaning the fact that I'd lost him.) "I'm also married. This is Cherri."

Cherri was the bit of fluff he had on his arm. A brainless, blonde, bimbo, hanging onto him as though he was her personal saviour and hero.

We politely chatted for a few minutes and then we parted, much to my relief. Neale and I wandered around, talking to mutual friends. At some stage we drifted apart, him talking to some of his friends and me chatting with some of mine.

After a while I started wandering through the house, looking it over and making mental notes when I came across something that I thought was a good idea that I might want to pinch. That's when I recalled the reason for the party. A house-warming, as the friends had just finished building and furnishing.

I'd wandered into what was supposedly a guest room but would probably finish up as a child's bedroom. They'd have to completely redecorate it before they could install a child in it though. Far too adult a theme to please a child. Personally I'd have gone for lighter colours right from the start, but that's just me.

That's when I ran into Bryce again.

"Nardia," came his mocking voice from behind me.

I turned and looked at him.

"Bryce," I said in withering tones. "You know, you can be a real swine when you want to be, which is most of the time."

"And you can be a total bitch when you want to be," he said, making it sound a reasonable thing.

"Thank you," I said. "I do try."

"Remember how hot the sex used to be?" he said, smiling.

"No."

"Sure you do. I can see it in your eyes."

"Purely your imagination with a touch of wishful thinking."

"Does Neale know you like to be forced on occasions?"

He did as a matter of fact, but damned if I'd admit it.

"I do not," I flatly denied.

"Sure you did. You even had some little tells that told me when you were in that mood. I always found that cute and a real turn-on."

"What are you on about? I never wanted to be forced and so there couldn't have been any tells."

"Really? Observe."

He took my hand and pressed it against his groin and he either had an erection or a large railway spike stuffed down his trousers. I snatched my hand away, putting both my hands behind my back so I wouldn't be tempted.

"That's what I'm talking about," he said, casually lifting the front of my dress and rubbing me through my panties.

"Stop that. And what do you mean, that's what you're talking about?"

"When you want to be forced you say no, or act as if you don't want it, but you always, but always, put your hands behind your back so I have free access and no interference."

"I do no such thing," I denied, suddenly conscious that my hands were indeed holding each other behind my back. I was also aware that he was no longer rubbing me through my panties as he'd pushed them down out of the way.

"Will you stop that," I half yelled. You know how that is. You want to yell but you don't want to be overheard so you keep your voice down while trying to yell.

Much to me surprise he did. Then I wasn't quite so surprised when he unzipped and pulled his erection free. Oh my god. It was just as large as I remembered.

"Don't you dare," I snarled at him, and he laughed at me.

He grabbed me and turned me around to face the bed, and then he pushed me so I fell forward over the bed, only stopping myself from going flat on my face by managing to place my hands on the bed, holding myself up. But still bent over the bed.

"You stop that," I said, feeling his hand rubbing against my mound again. "I'll scream."

Instead of saying anything he simply placed his cock against me and started pushing, with me automatically pushing back to meet him.

"I see you haven't forgotten how to do this," he commented, pushing in more firmly, driving himself deep into me.

"You rotten swine," I gasped at him. "You take that out. Someone may come at any moment."

"I know. Makes it even more exciting, doesn't it."

He was fully inside me now, stretching me and filling me, but for some reason not doing anything else. Instead he was lowering the zip at the back of my dress.

"Leave my dress alone."

Another demand that was ignored. I should have added 'and bra' because as soon as it was exposed he undid it. That was what he had been waiting for, apparently. His hands went around me, sliding under the loose bra and closing over my breasts.

Satisfied that he was right he pulled back and thrust in again, hard and fast. He wasn't holding anything back. Not for him a gentle build-up. He was all here it is so try to keep up.

I was gasping and swearing at him, my bottom bouncing about as I did my best to keep up with him. I guess it helped that I knew the way he worked so I was able to stay the course without any problems, despite inventing a totally new vocabulary to express my feelings.

If I knew how he worked he also knew how I'd react and he was taking full advantage of that. He was playing with my body as if it was a game he was an expert in, and he was again demonstrating just how hot the sex had been between us when we were together. Well, I'd never said he'd been lousy in bed. Just terrible as a companion, because you can't spend your life in bed, sweet though it may be.

He was bringing me to a climax, and doing it quite swiftly now, cock thumping into me while his hands coaxed further responses from hyper-sensitive breasts.

"Ok, girl, time to finish," he gasped into my ear. "Just remember where we are and try not to scream."

Scream? Oh my god, I wouldn't dare. I slapped a hand over my mouth, even as I bucked beneath him, my climax rushing towards me.

I probably finished up with teeth marks on my hand, throttling that scream when I climaxed. I slowly came down from it, recovering my control of vituperation as I did so.

"That was rape, you bastard," I snapped at him, tidying my clothes as I did so.

He promptly wavered his hand in a maybe gesture.

"Not really. You know you like to be forced so I was just obliging you. If you really hadn't wanted me to you could have screamed. There're a lot of people wandering around. Were you hoping someone would come in and catch us?"

I had been, after a fashion, but was just as glad that they hadn't. I finished tidying my clothes and stalked off in a dignified fashion. You just can't trust ex's to behave themselves. They always think they have something to prove. I sympathised with poor Cherri, married to that monster.