Rick's Wife Monica is a Bitch

When my old high school friend Jessica invited me to her wedding in Northern Virginia, I thought it would be a good opportunity to visit with her, celebrate her marriage and see the sights of the nearby Nation's Capital.

My boyfriend Anthony as supposed to accompany me, but when he was able to get Philadelphia Eagles tickets (as I found out later) he developed a 48 hour virus and opted out. So I soloed down to D.C. on the Acela Express and hunkered down at my aunt's house in Arlington.

Borrowing her car, I zipped around to the wonderful trio of monuments known as Washington, Lincoln and Jefferson, then had lunch at the Museum of National History. Later I visited Arlington Cemetery and the Iwo Jima Memorial before heading back to my aunt's place with a camera full of photos.

We had a delightful dinner, talking about my growing up, my mom and of course relatives. A fitful night's sleep was followed by pancakes, eggs, bacon and orange juice in the morning.

Jennifer's wedding was uneventful: she got married! The bride and groom were a wonderful couple, exchanged vows, and then headed off for photos while the rest headed for the reception.

Weddings are funny, they can be great when friendships are rekindled, but let me inform you that when you are there "stagette" it can be disconcerting. Of course everyone asked where Anthony was, what I'd been up to and how things were up in the Delaware Valley.

My table included a mix 'n match group which included cousins I hadn't seen in years, their kids and a couple who knew Jessica from work. Rick was an accountant at one of the large firms in town, while his wife Monica was a lawyer who worked on The Hill. We made small talk, the kind of slow dialogue which occurs when you don't know your tablemate's likes and dislikes.

Rick and Monica were a bit distant, sort of as if they were tired of speaking to each other. In the boy, girl, boy, girl state of things Rick and I ended up talking about this and that in between courses by necessity since my cousins were constantly cajoling their children to keep their composure and not make a scene. That meant Monica, a lovely brunette, was out of most of the conversations, which obviously irked her, but try as I might to include her she didn't seemed to have much to say.

After the toasts, the passing of the flowers and flicking of the garter, the lovely couple exchanged cake in a civilized manner. Then the band began playing.

I don't know about you, but watching senior citizens sort of "dance" to a funky beat is a bit disconcerting. And, without a date or friends, I was resigned to sit and act interested with an eye on the clock. I circled 10 p.m. as my bewitching hour, the time when I could leave without stepping on someone's toes. Not that it wasn't a nice wedding or reception, heck, my filet was superb and the veggies perfect. No, it's just like I was a duck out of watch watching the festivities.

Rick and Monica danced a couple disco favorites before hitting the wedding cake as I made nicey nice with Cousin Carol. When Jessica came past our table I was about ready to hit the road.

"Why don't you ask, er, Rebecca for a dance," said Monica to her 40-something husband, completely butchering my name. I mean, how hard is it to remember Robyn? I mean, I understand if someone misspells my name, but how in the hell do you get Rebecca from Robyn?

In any event, Rick turned and asked if I wanted to dance, and of course I said no, only to be cajoled into hitting the dance floor in honor of the bride and groom.

We jumped and rocked for pair of hip hops then returned to our table for refreshments. Monica must have been working the floor or in the rest room, so we headed back to the dance floor for a quick number then a slow dance. During the latter Rick mentioned that I looked beautiful in my blue dress, a nice comment for a guy to give.

Glancing around I realized I wasn't the most spasmodic dancer, there were numerous novices attempting to sway this way and that to the beat of the music. There was one couple, though, who were amazing dancers, the kind who embarrass the rest of us. It didn't matter the kind of music, they were at home whizzing around from disco to fox trot and swaying slowly.

As for wardrobe, it was the time of night when men ditched their jackets. One hussy in a short dress almost showed her underwear, bringing stares from all the guys whenever she was on the dance floor. A normal wedding reception.

Back at our table, Monica was indifferent as I attempted to talk to her about working for her government agency. After a bit she and Rick danced another set while I hit the chocolate fondue and dipped various fruits and snacks. Glancing at the clock, I decided to make my goodbyes and head to my temporary home.

Monica, though, insisted I at least dance one last dance, so off to the floor went Rick and me. This time we did two rockers before things slowed down. It was during the slow dance portion that Rick surprised me by complimenting me again and again about my dress and figure, which at first I loved until I felt his hand creep down onto my backside.

It just so happened I opened my eyes looking right at our table, where Monica was staring at me. I smiled at her, ignoring her husband's hand on my ass. "Rick," I quietly mouthed, "your wife is staring at us and I she might get pissed if I turn. Get your hand off my ass."

His hand rose, but his voice quietly mentioned that he loved my ass. "You have a great ass, Robyn; I had to feel it...what kind of panties are you wearing?"

I couldn't believe my ears. I mean, here we were, 20 yards from his wife and the guy was coming on to me. "I'd say that is none of your business," was my reply, and while I started to untangle myself he begged for me to finish the dance.

"I'm sorry, but I've just wanted you since I saw you," said the guy, rubbing his crotch against my midsection. "And I am picturing you in a blue satin thong."

Incredulous, I told him he had a lot of nerve. But I also wondered what he meant.

He told me. "You are so hot, I've wanted to hold you, kiss you, caress you and make passionate love to you," said the guy, whose manhood was wedged between my thighs.

The guy had guts, flirting incessantly in front of dozens of witnesses. On one hand, it was so wrong, yet on the other, it was nice to hear that I still had "it".

"Let's go outside, you know, and screw?" he begged.

Unbelievable. I figured I'd call his bluff. "Not tonight. But go ask your wife if I can give you a blow job instead."

This was his time to pause. "Uh, I don't think she'd appreciate that."

I asked if he meant me giving him a blow job or asking.

He replied the latter. "She'd kill me. But if that's an offer we don't have to ask her."

I told him he was dreaming. "Then keep your hands off me, stop flirting, and let's gracefully go back to the table and smile at people or something," I firmly advised. "You are embarrassing yourself. Besides, I hardly know you...you'd have to use a rubber."

We headed back to the table and I sat while Rick went to get Monica and me new drinks. She must have been watching the dance floor, or didn't like me, but whatever, she wasn't pleased. The woman stared at me, then spat out: "Keep your fuckin hands off my husband," said the woman. "You've been flirting with him all night, and I might have to scratch your eyes out then go outside and kick your fat ass."

At first I thought she was joking, but the woman was drop-dead serious. Here while her husband was hitting on me his wife was implying I was hitting on him. I shook my head, said good night, and walked toward the back of the banquet room. I didn't need that kind of crap.

While my goal was the door, I got waylaid as Jessica caught my eye. I walked over, congratulated the bride and groom on their nuptials then made small talk for a while. They were doing a buffet brunch the following morning for a few friends, and asked if I'd like to join them. I had mixed feelings, but thought it would be gauche to decline so I agreed to meet them at 10. "Then you can join us at the Ballston Rink for open skating at noon, it's the new rink right near your aunt's place. Come on, it will be fun."

With nothing else to do before my 5 p.m. return train, I agreed. As I started out the door I ran into Monica again, gave a false smile, said good night then started on my way. "Good night yourself, slut, maybe you can get picked up on the way home, you tramp. Make a few bucks along the way."

I turned and told the woman to fuck herself with a cucumber, then sped out of the room. What nerve that woman had. I hadn't done a thing, and the bitch gave me nothing but grief. I was tempted to tell her what a cad her husband was, but thought nothing but a scene would follow.

That night I had difficulty sleeping, constantly having my mind wander back to the bitchy woman and her, well, horny husband. I wondered what he'd be like in the sack. His hand was very sensuous when stroking my behind and he was, well, attractive in a distinguished kind of way. He reminded me a lot of my secret older boyfriend, my former boss K. Linford Little. Cool under pressure.

I though of Mr. Little as my fingers danced along my pussy lips. My fingers are well known to my pussy, having stroked and humped it for so many years. Oh, I have a jelly vibrator that buzzes orgasms quickly out of me, and a well-worn hairbrush handle that I use in a pinch, but on this night it was my fingers which teased me.

My pussy tingled before heading into warp drive when I added Rick to the fantasy coupling. I pretended I blew Mr. Little then ran into Rick and blew him as well ... on the same night. That fantasy sent me over the moon and I was able to get some fitful sleep after that bout.

The next morning I was still on top of the world from my self-loving. There is something about doing yourself in a strange bedroom, I guess. I feasted with Jessica and Garrett at their buffet before heading over to the Ballston Ice Rink for the free skate. There were a dozen of us at the new rink, slipping and sliding around the slick surface, and it admittedly was a great deal of fun. I hadn't skated in years, so the legs were a little wobbly.

Around a turn I began to lose it, righted myself, and then started to fall backward when a good Samaritan kept me from banging my behind on the ice. Looking back at my savior, I gasp. "Rick!"

It was the flirty and wandering husband from the night before. "Hello gorgeous, glad to be of service. I was hoping to get my hands on you!"

Shaking my head, I began skating with Rick slipping beside me. We meandered through the skaters, circling the rink several times before grabbing a cup of hot chocolate. Sitting inside the warm clubhouse we spoke, laughed and got to know each other a lot better. Away from his wife, he was a charming man.

We spoke about work, mutual friends, likes and dislikes. I told him about my absent boyfriend Anthony, and he spoke about his wife Monica. "I know she's a bitch, but she really does have a sweet spot in her heart. I think she's bitchy because they taught her that in law school," said Rick with a smile. "They have to teach that crap. You know the joke, three lawyers jumped out of a plane, which one hit the ground first?.....Who cares?"

Old joke, but it still got a laugh.

Somewhere along the way he asked me to go for a walk, so we wandered through the facility and then toward the elevators which were originally designed to stop at only garage floors with access to the adjacent mall. As we approached there were a number of people waiting, and Rick whisked me toward the stairs. Once in the stairwell, we made our way down two flights before Rick stopped, turned and hugged me.

"I brought a gift, Robyn," said the guy with a smile.

"Oh, what it is?" I joyously replied, wondering what he was up to.

The guy reached into his jacket and pulled out a small package of condoms. Flavored condoms. "There is cherry, strawberry and banana, I thought you might like a choice. And I can't imagine you'd like the taste of plain rubber ones."

I began laughing like a hyena, the guy had balls, was cute, and, judging from the cock bursting against his pants against my thigh, had a package that needed delivery.

Now, mind you, I am not into casual relationships, one-night stands, quick off and ons. I might not be perfect, I've had a couple affairs with married guys including the older man in South Jersey I've been seeing for years. Still, I was tempted, maybe cause of his bitchy wife or maybe Rick was just too charming. But in any event, I asked where we could do "it".

How about here?

"In the stairwell, there will be a million people in here," I stammered.

Now way, he explained. "There is no exit after this one," said Rick, pointing up toward the seventh floor door. We came in on eight, where the rink is. That's new. And seven is open. But come with me and you will see nothing until the ground floor."

Darn if he wasn't right. We walked down to where the six, fifth and fourth floor doors should be and none were there. Indeed, this was a new stairwell, probably because of the new eighth floor facility of the Caps. We walked between the fourth and fifth floors, stopped, and hugged before Rick carefully pushed down on my shoulders. I immediately knew where I was going, and anticipated what awaited me.

Face-to-face with his zipper, I caressed the throbbing package inside. It was hard, and it needed to escape its confines. Lowering the zipper, I moved in on my prey, kissing his boxers which guarded his cock. And what a cock it was, twitching in my face. Reaching around, I grasp the elastic band and lowered his boxers and pants as his dick popped into view.

Nice!

It wasn't the largest cock I'd seen, I didn't have a tape measure but it was a little less than six inches in length sprouting out from trimmed dark hair and a large ball sack, but it was wonderfully curved and sort of bounced around in delight at seeing my face in front of it.

Remembering our game, but in the back of my mind worrying about protection, I asked for a condom. "How about banana for my banana," Rick joked.

"Hum, that's perfect."

I opened the packet and then slowly rolled the condom down his firm shaft, taking time to tug and pull a little to tease the wild man. Firmly in place, I lowered my head and licked from the base to the top, where my fingers held the dick. I licked up and down the rubber-encased cock for a minute or so, drawing gasps from above. It indeed was banana flavored, and wasn't real icky. For a rubber, it tasted, well, pretty good.

"Oh my, that's awesome," said Rick, "but stop teasing me. Suck my cock!"

Pulling back a little, I stroked his dick, and then asked him what it was he wanted me to suck.

"My cock, Robyn, my cock. Do it," he ordered.

"Yes sir!"

I opened my mouth and bent toward the dick, moving my lips around the tip a bit and sucking before sucking down the shaft. Um, it tasted pretty good, a lot different than a bare cock but a lot like sucking on a banana. Since I learned a little about sucking cock from a banana at a girlfriend's sleepover years before, this oral escapade brought back some great memories of a different time.

My mind wandered back to the bedroom in my teenage years when Ann and I sampled her mom's banana bunch, attempting to get the whole banana into our mouth and wondering if we were just stupid because we couldn't. Back then we thought blowing a guy meant taking the whole dick in our mouths --- it must have been the Linda Lovelace Deep Throat thing we had heard about from our older brothers or something --- but since neither of us had actually seen a dick let alone sucked one out minds were impressionable.

I thought of those nights while sucking Rick's dick, getting lost in the oral assault on his firm manhood. It was quite sexy being on my knees in a stairwell sucking a rubber encased cock, and my own blood began to boil as I sucked his dick.

My head bobbed and Rick's body rocked as his orgasm began building. He moaned as I sucked and enjoyed his cock.

Then his phone rang, breaking the spell. "Shit, I have to take this," whispered Rick, holding my head so I couldn't move off his cock. "Hello?...Hello honey....What?....I'm at the mall....Yes...Uh huh."

Well, if it wasn't wifey poo. How bad was this! I began sucking his cock in ernest as Rick attempted to keep his composure. He mentioned about getting her a present and said he'd meet her at Starbucks in the mall in an hour.

"That was close," said the guy as I continued to suck his rod. "She wanted to know what I was doing...I didn't exactly tell her the truth."

Just then we heard a door slam from above, along with voices and feet rushing down the steps.

I wanted to keep sucking but discretion won out as I popped to my feet .and Rick secured his clothing. It was a good thing because 30 seconds later a young guy came bouncing down the stairs. "Where's the door?" he asked.

Rick answered. "Don't know, but we are going up to get out. I think there must be one down below."

The guy nodded, and I couldn't help wondering if he saw the empty rubber packet on the floor near us. Damn, a perfect reason why we shouldn't litter.

As the guy sauntered down the steps Rick pulled me to him and held me close, mentioning as if I didn't know how close that was. "There were a lot of people so they must have gotten off at seven and he thought he'd beat them down or something. But that was the wrong time for him to come. You felt incredible," said the married man.

Rick held me close, his hand wandering down my jeans and under my panties to my ass. "I love your ass," said the guy, playing with my o-rink Victoria's Secret polkadot thong. "It felt great in your dress last night and it feels wonderful right now. You must work out a lot to keep it in this great shape."

Hum was about all I could manage, as my head was thinking about his cock, the banana rubber (did he still have it on?) and his bitchy wife. Oh, and the wetness in my panties. Yes, I was hot as a firecracker. In any event, we held each other for a while and Rick continued to massage my ass.

"We only have a few minutes, Robyn, but I have to fuck you."

I can't believe I said it, but all I could manage was "I know."

He reached around my front and unbuttoned my jeans, reaching in and caressing my pussy under my cotton panties. His fingers danced around down there, causing me to gasp. He had me where he wanted me, wanting him inside me. It didn't take long for him to take advantage of the situation. He lowered my jeans to my knees and then slowly slid down my pink polka dot panties.

Turning me around, he told me to reach over and hold the hand rail on either side of the wall at the turn in the stairwell. I assumed the position as he pulled my midsection back a bit, moving my legs away from the wall to ease his entry. I worried at first he might think this was an okay for some backdoor action, but that wasn't on his mind apparently.

He slowly fingered my pussy a little more before reaching back and grabbing his rubber encased dick. He maneuvered me a little so he had better access, and then slid his cock up and down my wet slit from behind. From this angle I couldn't move much without risking a fall, so I merely held the banister and kept my ass as high as I could.

Rick continued to rub his cock on my pussy. It was incredible. I was so hot. "Fuck me, Rick, fuck me with your dick, give me the big banana," I whispered as he quickly complied.

He did, but it wasn't easy. Oh he got in me a couple times, but from the wrong angle and quickly popped out. It wasn't until I sort of suspended myself by holding the hand rails and bending my ass way back that he was able to enter deep enough to stay inside me. Once entwined through, it felt great.