You Can Always Say No Ch. 06

My musings were interrupted by lips pressing against mine. I sensed his bulk, his manliness, his indisputably male essence and needed him badly. I reached up, wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him to me, devouring him with my mouth. We kissed madly until my body screamed for air.

"Wow, Babe," Jason gasped. "I'm sorry I'm late. If I knew I was going to get this kind of reception, I'll be late more often. Where are they?"

"Change of plans," I gushed, still grasping for breath. "They just left - with a couple of playmates."

"Damn," my lover cursed. "I was really looking forward to finally seeing the little twerp in full drag. I figure I've earned it, after playing this little charade for so long."

Sometimes I really hate men. If it weren't for his big cock and what he could do for me and my sissy hubby, I would have kicked this jerk's ass to the curb long ago.

"For the umpteenth time," I corrected carefully, "shedoesn't do 'drag'. I am changing her into the sissy shemale she wants to be and I crave. I needyouto help make that a reality."

"You need me for a lot more than that, Sweetheart," Jason bragged. "From what you have told me, awholelot more."

I couldn't hold out anymore. His closeness was overwhelming; my body was screaming for release.

"Yeah, like right now, Stud," I growled, yanking him down by his designer silk tie. "Give it up."

"Here?" he questioned incredulously, glancing around at the crowds.

"Yes,right here," I hissed, jerking up my skirt to expose my bald, pantiless snatch, "right now. Fuck me, you bastard!"

I pulled the arrogant swine into the booth's dark recesses with me. We fumbled at his trousers like novices, finally unzipping him and exposing his cockflesh. He might not have been as impressive as Jerome, but he was longer than Alan and a lot fatter. I grabbed that throbbing, familiar girth, pressed it to my pussy lips, then grabbed his buns and jerked him into me, hard. After the events of the last hour, I needed him desperately.

Realization had come slowly, over time. As I penetrated the thin veneer of boyish charm, I had discovered Jason Miller was just another superficial, self-involved egoist. I no longer attempted to rationalize my sex (I wouldn't even dignify it with the term "affair") with him. Yes, it was good - sometimes. Yes, he got me off, although he really didn't give a damn whether he did or not, as long ashecame. It wasn'tbetterthan sex with Angie. She and I used strap-ons (I had her use a strap-on on me, rather than releasing her from her chastity. It was all part of her sissy training.) that made my toes curl; much bigger than Jason. I just sometimes craved the real thing. More to the point, I couldn't have accomplished what I already had with Angie, nor what I wanted to accomplish in the future, without Jason's willing participation. I didn't particularly like the 'harness' this dildo was attached to anymore, but it was a necessary evil and, on good days, a pleasurable one.

This was a very good day, thanks to the 'foreplay' before Jason's arrival. I grunted like a sow in heat as his schlong pistoned me. I came twice before his snake gushed its load like a firehose, then came again as I felt him fill me with his spunk. It took a while before the mist cleared from in front of my eyes.

"Your place or mine?" Jason asked without preamble.

"Mine," I insisted. "I've got a plan to salvage this evening."

"Just call me Pâté," he grumbled, zipping his pants.

An apt description, but I didn't need to tell him at that moment.

"I didn't meanyou, Lover," I schmoozed. "I meant what I...wehad in mind for my hubby."

We canoodled by the front door as the valet brought up Jason'sE500 Sport. I had insisted on taking a cab earlier so I wouldn't have to worry about jockeying cars later; the silver Mercedes would have accommodated all four of us easily. Faye had told me it wasn't cheating if weshared. I had planned to take her at her word that evening – literally. The situation hadn't worked out exactly as I had planned it, but I was already envisioning a viable workaround. At the moment, I had pressing personal needs.

I touched up my lipstick and straightened my hair in the passenger visor's vanity mirror as the smooth German V-8 propelled us through the night streets.

"So, what kept you so long?" I asked my companion, allowing a touch of annoyance to creep into my voice.

"I've been stroking a bigwig from the Pentagon all day," Jason grumbled. "We're ready to do a preliminary presentation for our bid. He flew in early, so I've been giving him the Grand Tour, taking him to lunch, buttering him up. I noticed him eyeing my secretary, so I pawned him off on her. I gave her my corporate Platinum card and told her to show him a good time. I also told her to take tomorrow off if she needed to, as long as the General was available for our meeting Friday morning."

"That was awfullydecentof you," I replied, trying not to allow my disgust to show.

"I thought so," he responded, non-plussed. "It's nothing the Big Boys don't do. Besides, I'll do whatever I have to to get this contract."

"Including taking credit for all of Alan's hard work?" I insinuated.

Jason grinned.

"Hedoeshave his uses," he gloated. "That was the deal, right? I pull him out of his department, set him up in his own office and look the other way while you do whatever it is you are doing to him. In return, he does what he does best to get this contract for me – and you and I get it on twice a week, sometimes more. Don't even try to tell me these Tuesday and Thursday nights haven't been good for you, Baby. Nobody is that good at faking it."

I didn't want to give the smug sonofabitch the satisfaction of knowing they had been. At the same time, it might have ruined everything to tell him at that point, what really got me off during our sex was the thought of Angie watching Jason fucking me – and perhapsparticipating. I had learned early; Jason was an unapologetic homophobe and he regarded my sissy hubby as exactly that. That was just one more unattractive thing about the man, but I still needed him. At the same time, he still had not met Angie in all her glory. She was a male fuck fantasy, and then some. Who knew what his reaction might be? I gritted my teeth.

"You know I can't do that, Lover," I purred, dripping with sincerity. "You're too damn good. Get me home and I will show you how appreciative I am."

The new, revised plan was elegantly simple: fuck like bunnies and wait for Angie to come home and catch us in bed.You left me to have your fun with Jerome, Trisha, and Faye, Dear. I was lonely and Jason just happened to show up. Aren't I entitled to my own pleasure? The fact she had openly and willingly gone home with a man, violating our vows in the most flagrant way, merely reinforced my argument. Once I had established the pattern of us each having our respective male lovers, in addition to the rich love life we already shared, there would be no further barriers to our own version of 'living happily ever after.' If that meant continuing to fuck Jason to allow Angie to 'come out' at work, thus going full-time and facilitating her transition, so be it. It's not like the arrogant ass was abadlay....

The story wasn't without its flaws. Jason just happened to show up? That sounded lame even to me, but Angie would have no proof otherwise. There was no way I was going to tell her I had been fucking her boss since that first Tuesday night class with Faye. I had known since the first moment our eyes met; Jason Miller would do anything to slip his dick into my tight, wet pussy. I merely had to call him up that morning after Alan left for work, set my terms; then show up that night and 'hold up my end', so to speak, to seal the deal.

I had been racked with guilt that first time; coming home with my pussy full of another man's cum. As I hurriedly cleansed myself in the shower, I had visions of treading that same tragic path my mother had walked before me. Then, when my Angie walked through that front door, looking as fine as she did, I just knew it would all be worthwhile. My little treasons actually did get easier in time. I also had a greater appreciation for Faye's outlook on life. I still needed that masculine cock, but needed my gorgeous, sissified Angie even more. I would just have to find some balance between the two.

Jason had arranged his occasional 'apology tour' dinners as an ego boost, subtly flaunting Alan's cuckolding in his face. I hadn't enjoyed that part of it, but went along to get along. I will admit; I got tingly playing the dual roles of dutiful loving wife to my husband and shameless cheating slut to my lover. Jason's under-the-table advances were relentless; sometimes, I allowed them to be successful to keep him interested.

Later, we had even fucked in Jason's office after the rest of the staff had gone home. Jason occasionally stroked his own ego by making Alan work late on those occasions, so Jason could hump me over his desk while my husband toiled right down the hall. My cover story, if seen coming or going, was impeccable; I was working with Jason on his media campaign, even as Alan was firming up the particulars of the contract bid that campaign was designed to support. Then I could take my husband to dinner and compare our busy, productive days.

Seeing Jason's inner sanctum confirmed everything I had come to dislike about him as a person. His 'Me' wall took the concept of self-aggrandizement to new heights – or depths? Framed diplomas, certificates, and other awards, mostly honorary, were hung in two rows along the wall behind his desk. The credenza beneath them was a maze of trophies: Football, baseball, track, tennis, golf, even one large, garish one touting him as "Big Man On Campus" at his university. There is actually anawardfor that?

Alan never caught us; nor did any of the other office staff. In fact, I hadn't even met Jason's secretary; she had been hired after Gayle left, to split off those functions from the job description and free Alan to concentrate on the project. I'm pretty sure Jason would have gotten off on making my husband his secretary, but he wanted the millions from the contract more.

Knowing how close Jason's secretary and other staffers were to my hubby, I was grateful for not having to face them. They couldn't report to my husband what they didn't know. I would never want my Angie to agonize over any of this. What I had done, I did for us. Still, if I tingled over the dinners, I took a genuine perverse delight in portraying the slut wife scant yards away from my loving husband. Now I was ready to close that gap and bring Angie into the scene itself; no more hiding, no more guilty conscience.

I would love to say I hated every moment I spent in our bed with Jason, waiting for Angie to 'discover' us. That just wasn't so. Among his other faults, Jason had a pipeline to the Little Blue Pill. So, we 'honeymooned' in Viagra Falls, taking turns at falling over the precipice or leaping there together. I didn't worry about sneaking around or hurrying to get cleaned up before my mate came home; Iwantedto be found out. The digital readout on the bedside clock told the tale: One AM, Two AM, Three AM, but no Angie.

Dawn broke. I called in sick; so did Jason. We dozed, awoke, showered, then fucked again; still no Angie. 'We won't keep them out too terribly late.' Damn that redheaded bitch! I hadn't even gotten her phone number. Angie's cell was off. Calls to Faye's home went to her answering machine. TheMACstore said she had arranged to take the day off. A quick check back with Miller Avionics confirmed; Alan had taken the day, too. At least I knew they were still alive. I started to seethe. Was Angie trying to taunt me? Was this her way of asserting her independence, as Alan had once done? Why now?

The questions kept repeating themselves in my mind, over and over. The answer kept coming back to the beautiful, redheaded Trisha.Jerome is leaving in a couple of days. Not "my husband is leaving" or "the love of my life is leaving". She also hadn't given any indication he was coming back. Had the witch staked a claim to my Angie in his place before the body was even cold? Had Wednesday been some bizarre 'Changing of the Guard' ritual, where Jerome had approved of his replacement with a nod of his head? Or had he been placing an order 'to go' and Trisha helped him fill it? What about Faye? Why would she go along with any of this? Was everyone but me being a selfish, uncaring slut? Well,I'll show them a thing or three!

Jason had been teasing me with his cock, attempting to re-direct my passions back to him. He had taken a double-dose of V as a lure. It worked. I turned on him and gave him my undivided attention, inhaling his engorged stick to the root. Once I had him throbbing, begging for release. I sank that turgid tool into my sex until bone scraped bone. We fucked like maniacs all afternoon and into the night. The more I came, the more I craved. I wasn't aware what time we passed out, nor how long we slept.

I was awakened by mid-morning sun streaming through the windows onto my eyelids. Awareness came slowly, like a dense fog lifting along the shore. I eased myself to a sitting position and took stock of my surroundings. The bed qualified for FEMA intervention; spread, blanket, sheets, and pillows scattered wildly, as though a bomb had gone off and this was Ground Zero. Birds chirped in the trees outside. A lawnmower rose and fell in crescendo as its operator plied the rows of some nearby lawn. Jason snored peacefully on the opposite side of the bed, mouth ajar. I had learned one more of his not-so-endearing traits in the night; when the sex was over, he hated to cuddle. His 'five o'clock shadow' read somewhere around forty-eight o'clock. Other than that, the house was peaceful, serene.

I shook him gently and received a small groan for my efforts. A sharp shove to his shoulder knocked him to the floor with a resoundingthump.

"What did you do that for?" came the disembodied growl.

"Time to get up, Lover," I chirped, syrupy-sweet.

I heard, rather than saw him scratch his head as he lay on the floor. At least, I hoped it was his head.

"What time is it?" he inquired.

I checked the readout on the bedside clock.

"Ten forty-five," I replied.

Nothing happened for a moment. Then, he was on his feet in a flurry of motion.

"Fuck!" he shouted, gathering up his clothes. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!"

"Been there, done that," I replied dreamily. "Don't you remember?"

"Why didn't youwakeme?" he railed. "The presentation was supposed to begin at ten o'clock!"

"Gee, I'm sorry, Honey," I cooed. "You must not have left a message for a Wake-Up Call at the Front Desk. They're usually pretty good about those things."

With some awkward hopping around, he managed to get his boxers, socks, trousers and shoes on. His shirt was half-tucked, half-not. He grabbed his tie, suit coat and car keys and raced for the door.

"Call you later," he tossed over his shoulder.

"Anytime," I replied diffidently to the empty space in the doorway.

I went to the bathroom, peed, brushed my teeth, then returned to the bedroom and retrieved my laptop. I phoned the office, told my secretary I would be working from home today, and asked her to download my messages to e-mail. Logging in to the company server through VPN, I downloaded my mail, then synced my PDA for relevant messages and phone numbers. I spent the rest of the morning returning calls, setting appointments, mapping strategies. Then I took a long, leisurely shower. There was no hurry. I knew my Angie would be home soon and I wanted to look my best for her.

She arrived around three PM, well ahead of her normal time. Hearing her pull into the garage, I was waiting for her in the foyer, dressed in my floor-length black silk dressing gown. She – and it was she – closed the door behind her and leaned against it. She was wearing a two-piece charcoal-grey skirt suit with wide-spread lapels, nipped-in peplum waist, and fitted skirt that ended at mid-thigh. Sheer black hose graced her shapely legs, ending in simple black patent pumps with five-inch stiletto heels. Her white silk blouse was open to the cleft of her lapels, revealing a generous amount of her deep cleavage. It was obvious from her hourglass shape she was tightly-corseted. The makeup and understated jewelry were perfect, just on the provocative side of business-proper. A full, fluffy mane of Platinum Blonde curls swirled around her face, cascading over her shoulders and down to mid-back. A faint trace ofObsessioncompleted the picture.

She extended both arms, offering an Oriental-style vase filled with two dozen red roses. Her longer, curving talons were readily apparent – and gorgeous.

"Forme?" I exclaimed with surprise.

She nodded, smiling radiantly.

"I had areallygood day at work," she purred. "I wanted to share it with you – and bring you a little something to show how much I love you."

"Thank you, Sweetie," I responded. "You look... stunning."

The gorgeous Blonde actually blushed, then pivoted expertly on her toes, partially extending her arms. She halted her spin facing me, casually slipping the fingers of one hand under the top of a lapel, then sliding them down to the bottom.

"You like?" she asked with a touch of uncertainty.

"It'sperfectfor you!" I assured her sincerely. "Absolutely perfect."

"I'm so glad you like it," she gushed. "I did it just for you. Well, I like it, too."

I transferred the vase to my left hand and extended the right.

"Come," I said. "Let's go into the living room and you can tell me all about your day. I've already poured us some wine."

I slipped across the sofa, setting the roses down on the coffee table. Taking my seat, I raised my wineglass.

"To us," I toasted.

"To us," Angie echoed, clinking her glass against mine and taking a sip. "Mmmmm, yummy. A Pinot Noir? What's the occasion?"

"I would say this is occasion enough," I observed, setting down my glass to gesture towards her with my hand. "So, you tell me; whatisthe occasion?"

She took another sip of wine, barely able to contain her excitement.

"We made the presentation this morning," she advised, glowing. "General Clayton was really impressed. He is going to recommend us to the full review board. Honey, we have a real shot at landing the contract."

"That's wonderful!" I effused. "So, Jason made a good presentation, huh?"

"Jason?" Angie snorted, taking another sip. "He missed it entirely. When ten o'clock came and it was apparent he wasn't going to show up, we had to think fast. I told the General Jason had called in and told us he had a real bad case of flu. We were in the car and had just pulled out of the parking lot to take General Clayton to lunch when I saw Jason in the rear view mirror, pulling in. I couldn't think of a good excuse for explaining his miraculous 'recovery', so I didn't mention anything."

I had to smirk, picturing Jason rushing into an empty conference room.

"So, if Jason wasn't there," I queried, "who is this 'we' that made the presentation?"

Angie shrugged her shoulders just a little and smiled coyly, sipping from her glass.

"I made the actual pitch," she admitted. "Patti backed me up with charts and data."

"Patti... Jason's secretary?" I asked, stunned.

"That's right," she confirmed.

"And you made a pitch for a multi-million-dollar defense contract... to a General who flew all the way out from Washington..." I murmured, teasingly, "dressedlike that?"