The Bet

The sound of Rachel's voice intruded into my fantasy. "Well, I'm going to call it a day," she said. She then closed her book and went inside.

Grant said he'd be in after one more dip, asked us if we'd like to join him. Zoey declined, said she'd had enough, too. When Grant dived under water, Zoey turned to me and joked, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"No chance of that here," I said.

Soon, I was standing with Grant on the side of the pool where Zoey and I had talked about an hour ago. He made a few comments about the car, then joked about my suit not leaving much to the imagination. "Is that your standard beach attire or did you wear it today for my benefit?" His head moved back and forth like he was watching a tennis match, flitting from me to the back windows. Me, I didn't really care who was watching.

"Actually, it WAS for your benefit," I said. "And I hope the results are worth it." I told him I was between relationships when he asked if I had a boyfriend. "But even if I did," I added, "I've had a crush on you since high school."

He looked down, shook his head. "Really? Well, I kind of had a feeling, but wasn't about to ask you to confirm it. Look, Megan, you're a very attractive young lady. And if I was a few years younger, not married, yadda, yadda, yadda...well, you get the drill."

I nodded, let a few seconds pass, debating whether to ask him a very personal question, one I knew was none of my damn business but couldn't resist asking. "Mr. Sorenson—"

"It's Grant, remember? At least when we're alone."

"Grant. Right. Okay, Grant, did you ever cheat on Rachel, have an affair? You don't have to answer if—"

"No, that's okay. Actually—"

Suddenly the back door opened and Zoey, changed into casual summer clothes, called out to me from the wooden deck. "Listen, Megan, my mom wants to know if you'd like to stay for dinner. Say yes because there's plenty here."

"Sure, I'd love to," I said, looking at Grant who nodded his approval.

"To be continued," he whispered. Then we went inside to change. Swim time was over.

***********************************************

Dinner was uneventful. I returned home all but convinced that Zoey would collect on our bet. No big loss. I'd still get to see The Boss while avoiding the inherent pitfalls that sleeping with Grant could entail. Not that I was exactly content with that. Just thinking about him could send my erogenous zones through the roof, got me touching myself to climax. And I still wanted to know if he had ever been unfaithful to Rachel. Finally, compelled by what I considered unfinished business, I headed over to Sorenson Motors one day after work. It was close to five and Grant was just leaving when I showed up at his office door in high heels and a light green summer business suit.

"Well, what a pleasant surprise," he said. He then lowered his eyes. "I see you've got a little color in those pretty legs of yours."

I looked both ways. Then, seeing no one in proximity, I started to raise my skirt. "They're yours for the taking. And a lot more, too."

Grant, halfway into the hall, ushered me into his office and shut the door. "Have a seat, Meagan," he ordered. "I think we need to talk." He sat behind his desk, slipped off his searsucker sports jacket and loosened his tie. "You wanted to know if I ever had an affair." I nodded. "Yes, I did, with one of my customers, and the only reason I'm telling you is because it's no secret, at least to Rachel. She found out about it and almost divorced me. After a ton of mea culpas, I'm sorrys and months of marriage counseling, she forgave. Didn't forget but forgave. To her everlasting credit, as bitter as she was, she kept it from Heather and Zoe. I've never strayed since, was never even tempted to. That is, until now."

He paused, then continued. "Of course, I'm conflicted, hobbled by moral constraints to resist your advances while tempted by what tempts so many basically moral men with a huge libido and a sometimes irrepressible urge to taste forbidden fruit. Two voices cry out to me. On says this is wrong, don't do it. The other says go for it, you only live once."

After a few seconds of silence, I said, "Which voice cries out to you the loudest?"

A mischievous smile creased his lips. Without answering, he got up and drew the curtains across his glass door. Then he took my hand, pulled me to him and began kissing me. After lifting my skirt, he dug his hands inside my panties and fondled my butt. "I guess this answers my question," I said.

"Yes, I guess it does."

He slipped his tie and shirt off, while I followed suit with blouse and bra. "Now you can suck on the boobs you feasted your eyes on at the pool," I said.

He bent down and did just that, sucking on my nipples as I stood by his desk. Then he lifted me on top the desk, pulled my panties down and got on his knees. Still in high heels, I draped my legs over his shoulders while he went to work on my pussy and clit, stabbing his tongue every which way to Sunday. I'd heard stories about girls blacking out when they climaxed. It had never happened to me until then. He made it happen. I know, because the next thing I remember, I was on the floor with nothing on but my skirt pulled up to my waist. Looking up, I saw him standing over me, his cock ready and willing. Somehow, I had the presence of mind to request topside. After straddling him, I began humping away, slowly at first, then faster as he played with my boobs and thrust his pelvis up and into me. After a few minutes of this, I assumed the position HE requested, laying across his desk as he stood up and fucked me. Any moral qualms I once had—and like him, I had them—collapsed under the weight of my carnal ambition. In the throes of our lust, we were of the same mind, hedonistic and selfish, getting what we wanted how we wanted it, tossing propriety out the window like a used dish rag.

I climaxed again right on top his desk, staying conscious this time. I heard him shriek seconds later, then felt the rush of hot cum shooting into me. He helped me off the desk, held me tight, and then kissed me with a passion that was somehow missing when we started. "You're incredible," he said.

"Right back at you," I said. "That tongue of yours...Did you ever make Rachel pass out like I did?"

He laughed. "No, you're the first. I guess that's a measure of how hungry we were for each other." I nodded, reached down and stroked my pussy, still wet with cum. Then it hit me: I wasn't on the pill and he wasn't wearing anything. As if reading my mind, he said, "Don't worry, I've had a vasectomy."

We dressed, then walked outside into the warm, early June evening. "Listen, Megan," he said, walking me to my car, "I'm very flattered that you find me so desirable. Any man my age hit on by a beautiful young woman would be. But, is there anything more to this, something I don't know about?"

My stomach fluttered. "Like what?"

"I don't know. It's just a gut feeling, probably nothing to it. Just thought I'd ask."

I shouldn't have hesitated, should have laughed off his "gut feeling." But I didn't. I must have looked guilty as hell because he then said, "There's something else going on here, isn't there? What gives?"

I broke down, told him all about the bet I made with Zoey. I couldn't bring myself to tell him what else she said, about the rock-solid marriage that Zoey insisted he had with Rachel, about his being too moral of a guy to ever cheat on her.

He looked incredulous, if not insulted. "You mean what just happened is tied to Zoey footing the bill for concert tickets?!"

"Hardly," I insisted. "What just happened was the consummation of a crush I've had since high school. The concert was merely the catalyst."

"Fine. Meanwhile, I had better find a good divorce lawyer, cause' I'm gonna need one."

"Save your money. What we did will go no further than this parking lot. What happens at Sorenson Motors, stays at Sorenson Motors."

He didn't laugh. "Not if you want to collect on your bet, it doesn't. You'll tell Zoe, and Zoe, knowing her, will duly inform my soon to be ex-wife."

I touched his face and kissed him, assured him that Zoey would get an entirely different narrative, one that would earn her a free ticket to see The Boss perform. "Only this is it, Grant—I mean Mr. Sorenson—because that's what you'll be to me from now on. Any more of this and you WILL need that divorce lawyer."

June passed and with it my deadline to seduce Grant Sorenson. Zoey got her ticket. The concert was great as I knew it would be—The Boss is an electrifying performer on stage. Throughout the summer, I continued to use the Sorenson's pool, laughing with Zoey whenever we caught her dad giving me the lustful eye. "My dad, such a flirt," she'd say. "Sometimes I don't know how he manages to keep his thing in his pants. For all but my mom, that is."