The Bad Boy

And then we were exhausted. We cuddled a bit, it was nice to feel him stroke my well used body, to rub his, but there was nothing behind it. I realized I didn't know where he lived, if he had a wife or girlfriend, even how old he was. "You want another beer?" I offered.

"No, thanks, I've got to be at muster at 7:30 in the morning. I should be getting home."

"Okay." I watched him get his pants on, didn't bother covering myself up - what more could he see? I followed him into the living room, he got into his shirt, I knew I'd miss those six-packs. He found my key in his pocket, gave it to me.

Before he left he grabbed me, kissed me, felt my tit one last time. "You want to get together again?"

I didn't have to worry that one out, very quickly said, "Sure. Call me Tuesday or Wednesday." We kissed, one very last time, I admit I was thinking maybe I should drag him back to bed, but then he was out the door.

I sighed, went to the bathroom sink, splashed water on my face, took a long drink. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. My complexion was flushed, my hair a mess, my nipples were still hard with the thought of this new lover. I began to take that garter belt off, it was rubbing me raw now, there was going to be a little bruise on my left hip, and then my phone rang. I went to answer it, saw it was Reggie.

"Hey!"

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"Where are you?"

"Outside, in my car."

"You've been there all night?"

"For the last hour or so, yeah."

"And you waited for him to leave."

"Yeah."

I could have been pissed, but I really wasn't. Once again, Reggie somehow knew what I wanted, needed, and he was right. "Get your ass in here," I laughed.

In the couple of seconds that it took him, I straightened up a little, put those heels back on. When Reggie walked in the door, he saw me standing there, in that garter belt and stockings, and that's all.

"Hi," he said, looking me over, I could tell he was in lust, even though he knew what I'd been doing.

I smiled at him. "I got fucked."

"Well fucked, it looks like."

"Yeah, real well fucked."

"You want to tell me about it." A command, not a request.

"Okay. Pour me a glass of wine, and get your ass in the bedroom." Before he joined me, I got that stupid garter belt off, but I kept the stockings on. He wanted me to tell him all about it, and I did, from the shock of hearing a strange man's voice to the positions we used, to the way his dick felt in my hand, in my pussy. "He's bigger than you are."

Reggie's voice was muffled, he was eating me. I was a little surprised that he wanted to taste me, seeing as how I was drenched with the stuff Quentin had left in me, but if that's what he hankered, what the hell! "You want to see him again, don't you?"

"I'm going to," I announced.

"Cool. Can I be there to watch?"

"Maybe." I suddenly understood that I still had things to learn, that Reggie still had techniques and attitudes to teach me. But now I was a graduate student.

And then, the bad boy got fucked by the bad girl.