My Woman His Wife Saga (4 page)

The fact that my thighs had her in a serious headlock didn't seem to bother her or mess up her rhythm. She continued to push and pull on my clit until I was screaming for mercy, opening my legs wide so she could move her head. She leaned up to look at me, her wild hairstyle still in place. She licked my essence off her lips seductively while her middle and forefinger still played around my insides. My walls were gripping her like she had a penis and soon I found myself exploding again.

“Now, I'm going to let you go,” Monica said in a soft sexy voice, “but only if you're ready to go there.”

“Go where?” I asked already knowing the answer. She just gave me one of those “stop playing with me” looks before leaning over to the table next to the bed.

“If you don't know I guess I need to use another one of these,” she said referring to the ice shaped penises she had sitting on the side. I knew for sure I couldn't take any more of that.

“No, I got you. You can untie me now.”

She motioned for me to scoot down to the middle of the bed. I did as I was told with my arms still stretched out. She stood over me with her legs on either side of my head. Slowly she bent her knees until her lips rested on mine. My tongue found her opening instantly. She untied one hand and undid the other one once I captured her clit between my lips. I could see Monica's hands on the wall helping her to keep her balance over top of me.

I was barely able to reach the table, but managed to snag one of the ice pieces without missing a beat. I continued to stimulate her clit while teasing her with the ice just at the opening of her tunnel. She moaned in appreciation as I teased her with just the head before sliding it all in. I positioned the ice-cold sculpture on my chin and she rode my face like she was riding a real dick with me capturing her clit in my mouth when she came down, and her pulling it out on the way up. The ice melted quickly from her warmth. Her juices flowed effortlessly. I stuck my index finger in her asshole for good measure, and my girl went wild.

She stood up off my face and placed herself softly on my stomach, her explosion running down my sides and forming puddles on both sides of me. She rotated on me with her eyes closed, moaning until it was over. I rubbed her clit with my thumb until her shaking subsided and she was able to open her eyes and look at me. I blushed a little at what just went down, partly because I didn't think I had it in me to please another woman. The bullshit orgies I had in college never got this intense, and I never had to use so much of my imagination. I never wanted to. I was always on the receiving end and never had to put much into a performance, so this was something new.

Don't ask what made me do it, but for some reason I looked across the room toward the dresser and the clock caught my eye. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me until I sat up in the bed.

“Does that clock say ten thirty?” I needed her to tell me because I didn't want to believe it.

“Yes. Why, are you in a rush?”

“Hell yeah! I didn't tell James I would be out this long. He's going to kill me.”

“It's still early. Don't you want to finish up in the shower? I have some treats in there waiting, and . . .”

“Did I not just tell you I had to roll? I ain't got no business being here in the first place. My husband is going to kill me.”

In the midst of me running around the room trying to find the damn light switch and a washrag, I thought I heard Monica sniffling. In the middle of my panic performance, I stopped to look at her. She was curled up in the middle of the bed crying. Even though the room was semi-dark, I could see her shoulders move up and down with every sob. I started to just leave her like that, but my heart wouldn't let me do it. I guess, for some odd reason, I cared about her. Dropping my head in defeat, I walked over to the bed to see what was wrong with her.

“Monica,” I called out to her softly as I made my way up the steps to her bed, “sweetie, what's wrong?” I sat and listened to her, but on the real I wanted her to hurry the hell up. I had to get to the west side in twenty-three minutes and four seconds.

“Nothing . . . I don't want you to go.”

“I have to go sweetie, but I'm sure there will be other times.”

“You promise?” she asked as she sat up on the bed and wiped her nose with the sheet.

“I promise, but right now I need to get washed so I can go home and tend to my family. Can you help me do that?” I asked, hoping my gentleness would get her ass out the bed and some light in this room.

She got out of the bed looking like a helpless little girl, and I tried not to give a damn. I just wanted to hurry up and get home. She finally turned the light on and allowed me to see what was what. While she ran the shower, I gathered my clothes from the floor and tried to press the wrinkles out the best I could with my hands.

Without saying anything, she pulled me into the bathroom and into the shower, washing me quickly but thoroughly. She tried to go down on me in the shower, but I gently reminded her I didn't have time. Once we were done, she dried me off and gave me a cotton sweat suit she'd purchased for me to put on along with a new pair of sneakers to match. She said she figured I would need them since my clothes were a mess now.

I thanked her as I got dressed in record time. I practically ran to the door after I put my belongings into the bag my new outfit came in, but for some reason I couldn't find my panties. I told her if she found them to hold them for me, and I rolled out. When I got in my car, I could see Monica standing in the window waiting for me to pull off. I got home before James, and was in the bed a half hour before he came in. I tried to play like I was just waking up when he came into the room.

“Hey babe,” he said to me after kissing my cheek, “how was the celebration?”

“It was cool. I only had a few wine coolers then I came on home,” I lied to my husband with a straight face. I felt horrible because he looked like he'd had a rough day at work while I was out busting nuts with Monica across town.

“That's good, baby. Can we talk in the morning? Right now I need to close my eyes for a second and get some sleep.”

I turned over on my side so he could lie in my arms. He was asleep almost instantly. I was awake thinking about what happened with Monica for hours. The sex was off the chain, but the entire scene at the end threw me off completely. I didn't really know what to make of it, but decided it wasn't worth the effort as I finally drifted off to sleep.

For the next two months, I tried to avoid Monica. I felt absolutely horrible about how things went down on that night, and even worse when James woke up the next morning wanting to make love. I felt like he was getting sloppy seconds, and the night before did indeed get sloppy. The entire time James was in me I kept thinking about the ice sculptures and Monica's warm hands. A few times I almost slipped up and called her name out when James thought he was making me cum. I mean, I came, but it was because I was thinking about Monica's tongue roaming all over me. Not because he was banging my back out.

I received flowers and Thinking of You cards constantly from Monica and James, and it began to get a bit overwhelming. James would just pop up at the office unexpectedly, and I would have to hide the numerous cards Monica sent me and make up excuses as to where I was getting all the roses from. He hinted that maybe he knew Monica was sending them to me, but he never came right out and said it. The two of them competing for my time was exhausting, and I needed to get away from both of them for a while. I was seriously considering packing up me and my kid's stuff and going to Mexico. The two of them together were nerve-racking.

One day at the office, Monica and James must have been playing tag-team on the phones because no soon as I hung up from one the other would call, and vice versa. I'm like,
What the hell? I'm trying to get some work done, and these two are acting like fools.
It was like they knew what was up, and were trying to outdo each other. But in actuality, all they were doing was giving me a damn headache. During one conversation with Monica, shit got tense real quick and I had to hang up on her.

“Why don't you ever tell me you love me back? I show affection toward you twenty-four seven, even when you're at home playing house with James and the crew. Are you saying you don't care about me?” Monica asked like she honestly expected me to give her an answer.

Monica had been crying in my ear for the past twenty minutes about my so-called “lack of affection.” How much affection did she want? I went down on her more than I did the person I was married to. She didn't even have to ask for it; it was a given. James had to damn near beg me to suck his dick, and even then it was only until he got it up enough to slide it in me.

“Monica, we have been over this so many times already. I don't love you, I'm not in love with you, and
James and the crew
are my family. They come first, and you act like you don't know that,” I said after taking a deep breath. I hated when she got like that.

“That's stuff I already know, but . . .”

“Then why do you keep asking me do I love you if you already know the answer?”

“Because I know you have to care about me a little bit or else you wouldn't keep coming here,” she said through her tears. I hated to hear her cry, and I was trying my best to console her so that I could get off the phone. I had a court date in a half hour, and I did not have time to be dealing with this emotional-ass Virgo.

“Monica, look,” I said through clenched teeth as calmly as possible, “I care about you baby, okay? You know that already! I just don't understand why I have to constantly remind you of my feelings. It's too much at one time to deal with, and honestly you're starting to push me away.” I tried to sound stern as if I was talking to one of my kids. She needed to understand the situation she was in. She was the sidekick in this play—no more, no less.

“Jazz, I'm not trying to push you away. I just need to know that you care about me. I need to hear you say it every once in a while.”

“I care about you, Monica. I really do. Do you believe me?”

“Yes, I believe you,” she said between sniffles as she tried to get herself together.

“Okay, now dry those tears and straighten up that pretty face. I'll make it up to you later on tonight.” I figured if I knocked her off real quick, she would chill for a bit.

“Will you stay the entire night?”

“Monica . . .”

“Okay, okay. I'm sorry, I know you can't stay. Can you at least stay until eight?”

“Sure, I'll leave work at six and come chill with you until eight, okay?”

“Eight thirty,” she pleaded from the other end.

“I'm about to change my mind,” I warned her over the phone line.

“Okay, eight it is. I love you.”

Instead of replying, I just hung up. This girl was going to drive me into a white jacket by the time all of this was finished. I gathered up my documents for court and threw on my leather jacket so I could head out. Just as I was reaching my hand out to turn the knob the phone rang again. I started not to answer it because I thought it was Monica again, but I went on and took the call anyway. My secretary was on lunch, so I had no way of intercepting the call.

“Jasmine Cinque's office,” I said into the phone, praying it wasn't some bullshit on the other end.

“Hey baby, how's your day going?” my husband inquired. I wanted to tell him I had a lovesick stalker calling me every five minutes to make sure I didn't stop caring about her, and the reason why she was acting that way was because I was face to face with her clit damn near every night. Then I'd come home and tongue kiss him after giving my children a kiss on the cheek. Instead, I opted for the logical answer.

“It's going okay. Right now I'm on my way out the door to the Campbell trial. What's good?”

“Me and you, dinner at the Hibachi at six tonight.”

“Tonight? Can we do it tomorrow?” I panicked a little because I just told Monica I would chill with her, and I knew if I didn't go I would be on the phone another three hours tomorrow trying to explain to her that my husband came first no matter how much sex we had.

“Baby, I already made the reservations,” James responded sounding kind of down.

“Okay, baby. I'll meet you there.” That gave me enough time to talk to Monica after I got out of court because I knew I would need at least an hour to calm her down.

“Well, actually you're scheduled to take the rest of the day off. Your boss cleared your schedule for the rest of the afternoon after your trial. I have a couple's spa set up for us, so I will be at the courthouse waiting for you. See you there. I love you.”

He hung up before I could say anything. I didn't have time to call Monica because I would be late for my trial for sure messing around with her. I ran out to my jeep, and once I got into the flow of traffic I tried to call her. Her answering machine kept picking up, and I didn't want to be inconsiderate and just leave a message. I tried calling all the way until I got into the courthouse, and once I walked into the courtroom I had to turn my cell phone off. After concluding my meeting with the judge, I left out to meet James.

I was not prepared to see what I saw when I walked out of the courthouse. Upon leaving the building and trying to find my cell phone, I looked up to see Monica and James talking by his car. I knew why James was there, but why did Monica show up? I approached them cautiously because I didn't know who would cut the hell up first.

“Baby, you remember Monica, don't you?” he asked me after he embraced me in a bear hug. Monica was shooting me dirty looks over his shoulder, and I pleaded with my eyes for her to keep cool.

“Yeah, how have you been?” I asked reaching out to shake her outstretched hand.

“I've been good. Thanks for asking,” she offered, leaving my hand dangling in mid air. I pulled my hand back, a little hurt by her actions.

“Baby, she was just telling me about a young lady she's been dealing with that has her head over heels. I ran into her out here on my way to get you. She was on her way to buy her flowers for their date tonight.”

“Really?” I replied with a dry throat. I didn't know what type of shit Monica was trying to pull, but today I swear she would get her ass whipped.

“Yeah, she's a lawyer, too. You might know her,” she replied trying to sound innocent. I wanted to black her eye on the spot.

“I might,” I replied trying to change the subject. “James, don't we have reservations?”

“Yeah, we do. Monica, it was nice running into you. Be safe and I hope to see you soon.”

“Yeah, both of you do the same,” she replied after shaking James hand again. Maybe it was just me, but that sounded a little like a threat. I wanted to call her on it, but I didn't want to draw attention to our situation.

James walked around the car to open the door for me, and I moved to put my belongings in the back before I got in. When I looked up at her, I could see a single tear drop down her cheek before she turned and walked away. I felt like shit, but what could I do? Again, she was the sidekick in this play—no more, no less.

I was distracted during dinner and couldn't really enjoy the massage treatment at the spa because thoughts of Monica were weighing heavily on my brain. Every time James asked me what was on my mind, I told him I was thinking about the Campbell case so he wouldn't have too many questions.

Monica was just wearing me down. It's not like I was in a relationship with her, and I tried to reason with myself for treating her the way I did. Who thought a couple hundred orgasms would turn into stalker-mania? I should have known she had a screw loose when she cried that first night, but my dumb ass kept going back.

The girl was like a drug, though. She had a warm bath ready most evenings when I got there.

Whether I got in or not depended on how she acted when I walked in. Yes, I said walked in, because she gave me a key to her place. I know I shouldn't have taken it, but she started crying then, too. She would often have a meal cooked, or would feed me grapes or strawberries. She treated me like a queen, something James didn't do.

Now, don't get it twisted. James was doing well in the dick-Jasmine-down department. He was keeping up his stamina, and it seemed as though the days of the five-minute brother never existed. He was good to me. We went out often, and he surprised me with little gifts here and there. James gave me all the material possessions I could hold and more.

Monica, on the other hand, spoiled me. She catered to my every sexual need without me having to instruct her on what I wanted done. She always had a different way of pleasing me that amazed me every time. She gave me backrubs after my many long work hours, and made sure I was fresh and clean before I left her home. All of that came with a price, of course. Some days she would cry and holler at the top of her lungs because she wanted me to stay. I guess going with her to Vegas for the weekend that one time made her think I could stay like that on a regular basis.

A few times she got on the floor and wrapped herself around my legs so I wouldn't go. I had to practically drag her across the floor before she let go, and when she did she would lay right where I left her and cry. The next day I would go over and kiss her rug burns left from me having to drag her across the carpet the day before, and we would be right back to square one.

Emotionally, she was way too much for me to handle. I wanted out, but I also wanted to stay in. It's hard to explain, and every time I thought she would act right, she would start to cut up again.

I think her seeing me with James that day might have made her snap. She was truly in love with me, and it was a shame because I wouldn't allow myself to love her back. It wasn't fair to my husband or our children, and I just wasn't having it. I just hoped she wouldn't start leaving dead rabbits on my doorstep or playing on my phone or whatever it is stalkers do to get back at their mates. I wasn't in the mood, and I had to find a way to end it . . . for a little while, at least.

After dinner, James and I went to the movies and only ended up seeing half of it before I started riding him in the back of the nearly empty theater. We were into the film, or at least I was. James kept kissing me behind my ear and fondling my breasts through my shirt. At one point he reached between my legs and stroked my clit until he had to kiss me to keep me from moaning too loud. There were only about twelve of us in the theater, but we were the only ones sitting in the back.

To make up for my stank attitude at dinner, I removed his fingers from between my legs and placed them in my mouth to remove any juices from them. Then I tongue kissed him so that he could taste it because that is a major turn on for him. While doing so, I removed his erection from his pants and began to stroke him softly. I ended the kiss to wrap my lips around him, and his head met the wall as soon as my tongue met him.

I traced the head of his penis before taking him into my mouth completely. He touched the back of my throat with no effort, and I made sure to keep his testicles warm in my small hands. He held me by the back of my neck, pushing me down on him, and I silently thanked God for giving me skills, because an amateur baby-drinker would have choked.

I released his hold on my head and straddled him with my back facing him. I sat all the way down on his length, only lifting up a little before he was back in me. He held me by my waist as he met me stroke for stroke until he exploded inside me. It was the best five minutes I ever had. Afterward, he wiped me as best he could with the few napkins we had from the popcorn, and instead of letting the movie finish, we got into the car to go home. On the way home we stopped the car and parked behind a Dunkin Donuts where he bent me over the hood and handled his business. We continued our session in the shower and finished up in the bedroom where we got it on for like two hours. By morning I felt like I had ran a triathlon, but it was worth it.

I got up early and made breakfast while James was taking a shower. Me and the kids were at the table eating by the time he came downstairs. He looked tired, but thoroughly satisfied as he kissed me on the lips before taking the seat across form me.