Something Stupid

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Jealous & betrayed, Kelly does something stupid.
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taleserotic
taleserotic
173 Followers

Something Stupid

11. October, the second year

Kelly feels jealousy and betrayal, so she does something stupid

So, what was I doing there? My little black dress slipped on over nothing but my bare flesh?

I had a wonderful life until just recently. I had a boyfriend and a girlfriend and all the sex any girl can possibly need, want, or imagine. I had love. Support. Kind of. Affection. Things to do and lovers to do them with.

Okay, so I was going down on Tom, and his cock tasted of pussy. Not an unusual thing, when we had a girlfriend, Lindsay. But it wasn't Lindsay's pussy I tasted on his cock.

Lindsay had left us.

So. Despite living with and sleeping with me, the bastard had been fucking around.

Not that Lindsay had been any better. Her old girlfriend had come to visit. And they went to bed in the other room. I could hear them through the wall. Doing it. They said they were just going to talk. But they made love. With me right there in the house. And worse.

The woman I love had messed around on me. On us: Tom and me. And now, it seemed that Tommy had messed around on me. Lindsay had been sure he would, while away on his river trips. No, No, I had said. He loves us.

Nice fucking relationship.

I had come home so full of love, anxious to see my boy. Dropping my things at the end of the couch, I slid right to my knees in front of Tom, moved away his guitar, opened his pants and took his beautiful cock in my mouth. Beautiful, cunt smeared cock. Oh, I tasted the bitch right away.

And still I just sucked him. His cock, the cock I loved to have in me, had been inside another girl. Just moments ago. I had only just missed finding them fucking. My head rose up and down as I swirled my tongue around his shaft and I fellated him.

Grasping him with my hand, I dipped my head lower as my fingers wrapped around his slick cock, pumping as my tongue shot out to find that spot below his balls he loves to have licked. He moaned with pleasure and I fought back tears. Why was I doing this to myself?

He couldn't see that I was crying as I took him in my mouth again and fucked him with my face. That's all it was, wasn't it? Fucking? How could it be making love when he had just cheated on me? I let him out of my mouth, sliding my fingers up and down on him and trying to look into his cheating eyes. He smiled back at me.

We'd fucked other girls, the two of us, together, since Lindsay left us. At first, he found them. Then I did. We liked it. It was something we shared. Why did he need to fuck someone without me?

I took him in my mouth again, the mouth that loved him, and I gave him such a blow job that he would go the rest of his life wishing for another like it. My lips drew up his shaft, tugging at him, and then I would plunge down again, taking him deep, taking him into my throat, something I had learned to do just for him. I held him there, letting him feel how deep he was into me. I used the back of my hand to wipe my eyes and clear my hair from my face and looked up at him again. He was still smiling. Of course he was. What man wouldn't be? I let him slip from me again, my lips clinging to his shaft with my lips until I held just the head in my mouth and swabbed it with my tongue.

My fingers wrapped around him again as he began to thrust in and out past my lips. Slick from my mouth, his cock glided through my fingers. I wanted him to come quickly, and my head moved fast up and down on him, sucking him, my tongue dancing with his cock in my mouth. He usually takes a long time to cum, which is a good thing when you have two girls to fuck. But I wasn't going to let him last.

I was ruthless, using my mouth and hand on him until he surged up and spewed into my throat. I swallowed—I always do for him—and I held him in me until he started to get soft again. Ordinarily, I loved it when he came in my mouth. This time, he tasted bitter on my tongue. I opened my lips and let him go, then wiped them with the back of my hand.

I got up from my knees and moved into the kitchen and started dinner. I felt so stupid. I was rattling around in the pots and pans when he came in, his damned pants still open.

"Yana was here earlier, looking for you," he said.

"I'm sorry I missed her. I'll call her later." I knew my voice sounded strained and I wasn't talking like myself.

Poor Yana. My best friend. She must have practically walked right in on them.

"What's for dinner," Tom asked. God, but he was smug. He was behind me, hugging me, like he actually loved me or something. His strong arms circled me, and his hands covered my breasts over my blouse and caressed them. My stupid nipples got stiff for him. Like why should my nipples be any brighter than I am? His lips touched to my neck and he made me sigh at it in spite of myself.

I made myself not cry and managed to finish dinner. Tom puttered around and helped until finally we sat down to eat. There wasn't much conversation. Tom got up to shower afterwards, getting ready for his show that night. He plays the guitar in bars. Coming out of our bedroom, he picked up his guitar and asked if I was coming down later. Oh? And why was he asking? Wasshe going to be there? Was he checking to see if his stupid girlfriend was planning to come down and ruin it for him with his lover? His friend Matt was picking him up to help him run a sound-check, and I was being left the Jeep so I could drive to meet him later. It was already settled I would be there. So why was he asking?

"Of course, honey," I said brightly, a big old phony smile splitting my face. Not that he noticed. He kissed me, fondled me with his free hand, and headed on out. He always fondles me when he says goodbye. He likes it. I like it. My stupid old nipple stood up for him because they like it. I wanted to scream.

"I love you," he said as he headed out the door.

"I love you too," I told him. I did. The bastard.

I wandered around our house after he left, unable to study as I had planned to do. Unable to do anything except seethe.

So, what does little Kelly go and do? Something stupid.

I showered, did my make-up, just a touch, curled my hair, slipped into a little bit of a dress and thigh high stockings with heels, and headed out the door. Oh, I was going to go see him at the bar alright.

In our college town, most of the students go to bars near the campus. The one Tom was playing was one of them. But there are other places, where the locals go. One is a nasty little place on the old highway between our town and the next one over. People had been stabbed there. Its name is a euphemism for male randiness. Just the place, I decided.

I pulled up at nine, about the time Tom was taking the stage at the other place, so I had about three hours before I was to meet him. I thought it would take 15 minutes to find a man to fuck me. Not that I am so full of myself, but as I walked in, I could see that this was not a place that saw girls like me often. For one thing, I didn't have on a stitch under my dress. For another, I think the woman nearest my age was a good ten years older. And there were a lot more guys than girls of any age.

I am tallish, for a girl, with nice legs, I am told. My hair falls to mid-back. Being slender and lithe, I may not be the curviest of girls, but my face is nice. I can turn a head or two. And the dress I wore let my nipples show quite nicely as they stood up, though I am not greatly endowed with breasts. I let the nipples and legs and hair do the work.

I sashayed over to the bar, ordered a cocktail, and made my way to the jukebox. It was on old one, with actual CDs in it instead of an internet connection. I leaned over it to look at the song selections. I also opened my long legs in a broad stance to pretend to be getting a better view. The material of my dress was thin, and the light of the machine lit me up, so that anyone looking at me from behind had a clear look right though it at my stockinged legs. And they were looking. I could feel their eyes on me as my calico hair hung down as I looked at the titles.

Being a guitar-player's girlfriend, I have a pretty good knowledge of music. There was a lot of country on the machine and old rock, but I recognized some it. I had my money in a clutch, and I was just about to reach for it, when a man appeared at my side. He was smiling and holding out a five for me to use. I thanked him and fed it into the machine, smiling coyly and hooking my hair behind my ear so he could see my face. He seemed interested in which songs I selected, or at least he feigned interest to keep talking to me. It didn't matter what the truth was. He looked at my chest a lot.

He was not quite my height, but I was wearing heels. From his clothes, it looked like he worked hard. Maybe he was a carpenter, or a plumber or something other that a no-good-fucking-guitar-playing-English-major. His hair was long and not terribly clean. Oh well. He wasn't bad looking. I caught the straw from my drink with my tongue and drew it slowly into my mouth. I could have just lowered my head to it, but I wanted him to see how I could use my tongue on long hard things that stick up.

After I had used up all of his money selecting songs, he asked me if I wanted to dance. There was a cleared space around the jukebox, so people must have danced there before. I nodded and handed him my drink as I twirled away and began to sway to the music. He laughed and asked if I could two-step. Of course I could. That other-girl-fucking-Tom had taught me. But I pretended I could not. When a boy is trying to pick you up, it is always nice to let him feel like he is doing something to be proud of in front of you.

I lifted my left arm to my hair and tossed it over my shoulder. I know the effect that always has on men. Then I laid my hand on his shoulder and let him take my right hand in his as we began to move. I intentionally stumbled at first so he could teach me how to dance. I giggled on purpose whenever I did, apologizing for being such a bad dancer. Every time I did, he assured me that it was quite alright and that I would pick it up in no time. I dragged my chest over his hand every chance I got, letting him feel my nipples. I wanted him to know that my breasts were bare under the dress.

He pulled back at one point and looked down at my chest, his face split by a huge grin. "You have some serious nipples," he said.

I looked down too. They were quite evident under my dress. Good old dress. "No," I told him, "they like a good joke." He didn't get it.

I let him lead me around the dance floor like he was driving a tractor until the songs ran out. When they did, another man was standing by the jukebox holding out a five of his own and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Oh, now this could be interesting. I was planning to get laid. Royally fucked. Screwed. But an even more wicked thought was settling into my wanton imagination.

I put the money into the machine and we picked out more songs. The first guy hovered around and even made a suggestion or two. It was clear that the two knew one another.

Guy number two didn't so much ask me to dance as he took me into his arms and started pushing me around the little dance floor. He was not as good a dancer, but he was more bold, running his hands over my body through my dress and checking out, I am sure, that I was indeed not wearing a bra. I wondered if he was going to feel up my ass too and laughed. He must have thought I was having fun.

I didn't pretend not to know how to dance with him, and he complimented me, saying that Paul must be a good teacher. Paul. I rolled that over in my mind. "Paul and?"

"J.C.," he told me.

Even though it was J.C.'s money, Paul asked me to dance again after two songs. He hugged me closer then, taking advantage of my improved dancing skills to really twirl me around the floor. A better dancer than J.C., he did some swing moves too. I felt my skirt fly up a little. Not too much. Maybe enough to show my stocking tops.

It was not lost on J.C., who was hovering nearby. "Dang, girl, you ain't wearing no panties."

"Am I supposed to?" I gave him a look of such ingenuous naivety.

J.C. reclaimed me and danced with me for the rest of the songs he'd paid for. Once, when my back was turned away from the rest of the people in the bar, he reached down and cupped my butt, just to make sure his eyes hadn't deceived him earlier. Nope. No panties. He seemed to like that.

A third guy was at the jukebox when that set of songs ran out. This was just getting better. He put his money into the slot, then gestured for me make my choices. J.C. and Paul smoldered. I looked them over, all three. They were about the same age, I guessed, ten or eleven or so years older than me. Closer to my mom's age than mine. They all were working men. Real men, not students. Each was ruggedly good-looking, in his own way. This was going to be fun. It was 9:30.

"Look," I said, smiling from one man to the other as I took a final sip from my drink, "dancing is fun, but..." I checked my watch.

They looked at me expectantly, disappointment showing on their suntanned faces, sure I was about to say I had to leave.

"...why don't we just go fuck?"

Their months dropped.

"Which one of us?" asked J.C.

"All three of you." Moving close to him, I ran my fingers over J.C.'s cock through his jeans. He started to get hard. That made me smile even more. Slipping an arm around his waist, I turned to the other men and blessed them both with a seductive smile that promised so much. I let them think for 15 seconds more. "Unless you don'twant to fuck me." My smile was dazzling. "Who lives closest?"

Clayton, the new one, said he lived just across the road a bit. "I'll follow you," I told him. With a toss of my hair, I turned and led them to the door. My hips swayed as they had never swayed before as I enticed three men out of a bar.

The parking lot fronted right on the highway and cars and trucks whizzed by as we stood there. I was a little afraid I might still lose one of them. I wanted all three. Three were important. At the Jeep, I paused to open the door and ask which vehicle was Clayton's. He pointed to a pick-up parked four cars away.

I felt empowered in that moment. I felt dangerous. These men had better watch out for me. I was reckless and angry, probably not a good combination.

"I'll follow you," I said. They hesitated again, not sure if they were going to go through with it or not. I decided to convince them. Feeling strong and confident in my sexuality, I wanted to show off even more. Right there in the parking lot next to the highway where anyone might see me. I lifted myself up into the Jeep. It is difficult to get in or out of in a ladylike manner, and when one is wearing a short dress, as I was, the effect can be quiet scandalous. A semi thundered past, and we felt the breeze of its passing. I scandalized the men. One foot, rested on the door frame as I slid the other around into the cab. That little dress rode up my lean thighs and they could see my sex plainly, if they cared to look. The ring that pierced me picked up light from somewhere and glinted dully.

"Shall we?" No way was any one of them going to pass me up then. It was cool out, and my nipples were really stiff and looking good, I was sure.

J.C. and Clayton practically ran to their trucks. Paul stood gawking at my half-nude body, his eyes taking in my hairlessness between my long legs. "I'll ride with you," he said. I laughed and got in, reaching over to unlock the passenger door for him.

He was all over me the minute I pulled out of the lot, kissing my face and neck. Clayton turned up the first side road we came to as Paul fondled my boobs under that little dress and reached between my legs. I spread my thighs for him even as I worked the pedals. Running his hand over my bare mound, he teased my sex and I grew wetter. His short, stubby finger was just going inside of me when Clayton turned into his driveway. He did live close. Why had he even driven? I pulled in behind him and J.C. edged to the side of the road in front of the house. I slipped out of the Jeep, the dress bunching at my hips as I did so, and wriggled my hips and exposed bottom right in the front door and into Clayton's living room. My three men stood in a circle around me, trying to figure out what to do.

"We have two hours," I told them bluntly. "I need to be home by midnight to get there before my husband."

"You're married?" Clayton asked. He sounded shocked. Surprised. Worried. Maybe they weren't going to get to fuck me after all. And they wanted to fuck me.

I lifted one hand and ran it through my long hair the4n unzipped the dress. My breasts pulled and lifted as I did, their nipples stiff and pointy. I had decided that it was safer for me if they thought I had a husband instead of a lying cheating boyfriend. I didn't want anyone asking for my number.

"Does it matter?" I slipped out of the dress and stood before them in nothing but my stockings and heels.

"Who goes first?" asked J.C., ever the bold one.

"Something wrong with sharing?" I asked.

They drew back. What is it when men and homophobia anyway?

"You'll be doing me, boys. No need to be nervous about being here with each other." Just a little reassurance. I slid to my knees and reached up for Paul's zipper and for J.C.'s at the same time. Clayton slipped off his own pants.

I moved from one to another as they came closer again, taking each man into my mouth, rolling a condom onto him with my lips and tongue. As I sucked one onto the first man, my fingers tore open a second. I'd brought in a box of them with me, never having dreamed of the chance to use them all when I bought them on the way to the bar. I wasn't so sure anymore. I moved my head up and down on one of the men, sucking cock, loving that I was sucking cock, and then moved to the next man, drawing him into me, making him harder. Giving head makes me so wet. I was also scheming. I wanted to be full of cock—a fantasy I'd had for about seven months—and I was literally sizing them up.

J.C. was the biggest. His cock swelled in my mouth, stretching my lips around the thickness of his penis. I drew him in deeply, letting him feel how my tongue and lips caressed his shaft. I don't like giving head using a rubber. I miss the velvety feel of the man under my tongue. But in this situation was a good idea. I moved my lips on and off of him, feeling how hard he was, then moved to Clayton.

Clayton's cock was long and skinny. I could fit him into my mouth more easily than I could J.C. It was also easier to lave him with my tongue, rolling it around his cock inside my mouth. He too was hard and ready for me. I drew my lips away before he could come.

Moving to Paul, I took him completely into my mouth. I barely even had to open my throat for him. His cock was easy to suck. No discomfort at all. Not that I don't enjoy sucking a big cock. It is just that, with Paul, it wasn't an issue at all.

When each man was nice and hard, I began arranging my tableau.

Bold J.C. I pulled down onto the floor. Straddling him, I held his big, thick cock to my soft, wet pussy and rubbed it between my lips, fitting him inside, easing my cunt onto him. I needed to take in a bit of him at a time, rising up and then coming down harder, to get him in me. Gasping with pleasure, I rolled my hips and finally took him in, felt him press up and into my pussy, filling me up. I began rocking slowly on him as I asked Clayton if he had any lube. He nodded blankly, hustling off, his erection bobbing. J.C.'s big cock was stretching me so well as I moved on top of him, and I dragged my hands across his broad chest as he lifted his hips to fill me again as I came down on him. Clayton returned with a bottle of something he must have ordered from a men's magazine in the hopes of just such an occasion as this. Or any time a girl might let him fuck her ass. I took his cock back in my mouth as he stood before me holding the unopened bottle out to me. I handed off the bottle to Paul. He grinned with understanding.

taleserotic
taleserotic
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