Silence and darkness. They overwhelmed me when I heard the door shut behind the man who had just left. I could feel my heart beating all the way up into my ears. I heard my own breathing, heavy and labored, still trying to recover from what had just happened. I was nude. I was on my knees, blindfolded. Someone's cum was dripping off my nose, my chin, and it had started to run down my chest. I had no idea who. I couldn't hear her, but I knew she must've been there, somewhere, watching and smirking. My mouth had gotten me into another mess, literally and figuratively.
I'm Heather. I just turned 40. I'm married, but in name only. My husband Clark is a serial liar and a cheat. We're only together because of our kids, fraternal twins who just went off to college. My husband cheated repeatedly, most recently with his secretary. He's the type that had the gall to suggest that our lack of intimacy is what caused him to cheat, even though he was cheating well before we stopped being intimate. Now, the only sex we have is kind of a bargaining chip. Like, "hey, I'll suck you if you do the laundry this week," that sort of thing. The public has no idea of our arrangement, however, to the outside we appear to be a happily married couple. That is why this situation could be very embarrassing, to both of us. Why was I there like I was? Val.
Well, Val and my big mouth and pride. Val and I are best friends and have been since high school. Maybe we are best "competitors" more than besties. There's nothing more satisfying than coming out on top in anything to do with her. It could be a discussion, a board game, a competition or it could even be over a guy, we've fought over it all. In high school, we both fought over becoming a cheerleader. She won, even became the head cheerleader, mostly due to her barbie doll skinny body along with with perky tits. She's vain, even though she was genetically gifted. She's enhanced her look since with botox injections in her lips and upgraded her tits with implants. All which I didn't think she needed.
With her cheerleading status, she dated Jim, the handsome football playing hunk who I lusted after. She'd go on and on about how good he was in bed, how big his cock was, etc. (18 years old, for literotica sake). In fact, Val won most things with me, which only infuriated me more, making me crazy to do anything to top her. It was Val who made up the, "I double slut dare you," game, and we've played it, all the way up to now. It's basically a loser's punishment game.
We were at a house party and we both saw a guy we were interested in. We were debating about some fact that Val was correct about so as the punishment for losing, Val leaned in and whispered, "I double slut dare you to go over there, talk to him, and within five minutes let him touch you, either your bare tits or let him feel your pussy, through your pants."
"Val!" I can't do that!" I protested.
"Ok, but if I do it, he's going home with me, is that what you want?"
So, my pride being what it was I marched over there and four minutes later he had his hand down my pants. Embarrassingly, we didn't end up having sex. In fact, Val ended up dating him, telling me he always referred to me as that "easy slut from the party." I guess I was, letting a complete stranger finger me without even knowing his name. These were the situations I found myself in, often, because of her (and me and my pride, of course).
She didn't always win and I keep those victories close to my heart. We were in a cab coming home from the club one night in our college days (yes, they had cabs back then for you millennials). The cabbie was an older guy with a Greek sounding name. He was eyeing her in the rear view mirror, she was in full club "slut" gear. She'd lost a bet to me earlier, so I whispered to her, "I double slut dare you to tease him and if he asks to see more you have to show him." Never one to back down from one of our dares she toyed with him by slowly pulling down her already low top while we talked, to the point the top of her areolas were showing.