Addicted

That ass!

I wanted to reach out and squeeze it -- and I did!

As Lizzy sauntered out the door of the shawarma place, I took a two-hand grab square on her Buns of Steel.

She giggled as I followed her out.

The flirting was fun, but there was a head-trip chaser: half the folk in that little joint watched me grope my girl. It felt like every single guy wanted to trade hands.

Outside, we traded a kiss and I nodded toward my ride. "You said your office is only two blocks away but do you wanna lift?"

"Yeah!"

Lizzy followed me to the PeaceMobile® -- my doorless Humvee -- and hopped in. For all the body this chick had, it was her face that kept me: big eyes and a button nose. Juicy lips framed in chipmunk cheeks. She was just too cute for words.

Cute? Cute. That's where it got weird for me. I didn't go for "cute" girls, I went for "hot" girls. Lizzy brought the heat, sure, especially with the ultra-bod, but she had the kind of wholesome, adorable face that seemed like it should be selling candy.

I guess that's what made the lips stand out. I mentioned the lips, right? Lips that were made to suck dick all day long? Yeah, those: lips that gripped the imagination of every guy in earshot back in the shawarma joint...

I fired up the diesel and pulled into traffic. "Hope I wasn't outta line back there."

"I love that you can't keep your hands off me!"

"No... I meant the, uh, comment before we left."

"Oh, right," she blushed. "Telling some rando that your 'girlfriend is such a slut'?"

"Yeah, that," I confessed.

She held her breath, her face scrunched until she finally let it out. "If you can handle people knowing you have a slutty girlfriend, I can handle people knowing I'm slutty."

She said it one breath and looked utterly spent after saying it.

My heart stopped for a second, unpacking it. "You know, that has got to be the hottest thing I've ever heard."

"Really?" She took a deep breath, biting her lip. "Really-Really?"

"Really," I nodded, turning back to the traffic.

"You'll be shocked, I'm sure..." She started giggling all over again, looking at everything but me. "...But I've had boyfriends call me 'slut' in public before."

"I'm shocked! Shocked, I say!"

"I was sure of it!"

Lizzy pointed towards her Jeep and I pulled into the company parking lot. Honestly, I was a little surprised: this was a Big Company. Not going to mention the brand, but I'll bet you've used it today. Maybe a little like how her boss used her...

Her Jeep was one of the few cars left in the lot and I backed in next to it.

She shot me a sly grin. "Are you sure you don't want to sneak into the building? I can show you where my Manager's office is."

"Is that where you blew him?"

"In his office," she nodded.

"Yeah, I will definitely take you up on that... but not tonight. No, right now, I want to watch the magic happen. I want to see our first night, but from the other side."

"Are you SURE? Do you REALLY want to see this?"

"Fuck. Yes."

"Okay!" She hopped out, flipping her keys. "I'll see you there!"

#

Thirty seconds after a kiss, she passed me by. Figures: she was lighting quick in her Wrangler, but my old Hummer was original recipe. Right off the surplus lot, it was zero to sixty in about ten minutes.

Ten minutes was just enough time to get from Glendale to "The Other Door," a popular watering hole in the NoHo Arts District. The whole time, I wondered: what the fuck am I doing?

The answer: I'm meeting my girlfriend to watch her get picked up.

Again: what the fuck am I actually doing?

I didn't know, but I knew I had to watch it. I was hard thinking about it, I was hard talking about it, and now I was hard imagining it. It was going to happen, but I was an idiot if I thought this was just about watching.

I was an idiot anyway. That "First Night" I wanted to recreate? The one when we met? That was when she cheated on another guy... with me.

Her words rolled around in my head like the marble in a Guinness can. That one part about "If you can handle people knowing, I can handle people knowing..." Why was that an issue?

Oh, shit.

That.

"Cuck," I chuckled.

Just the sound of the word: that was the dumbest goddamned insult I could think of.

Not wrong, per se, especially if my girlfriend was sucking somebody else's dick, but did I care? Sorta? I guess I did, but more about what they thought of her, not what they though of me.

I was gonna let it go, but what if she had some old boyfriend who thought he could handle her being his pornstar... but couldn't? Sure, I was all chuckles now, but could I really handle it? We were awfully fucking close to making that happen, so I owed it to her to try on the horns for a second.

I tried to imagine what I'd feel about some guy knowing my girlfriend sucked his cock. Her, him, me, that, it...

All I could see was her on her knees, doing the deed.

Honestly, unless some dumbfuck tried to rub my nose in it, I didn't care what he thought about me. Well, let's go to a real-life example, Chuckles: what was her manager thinking?

From the sound it, her manager didn't think about it at all. She was a source of blowjobs during her quarterly review. In that respect, he sounded like a douchebag, but it was all consensual.

And somehow, having a girlfriend who was good with that... turned me on.

Would there be problems? Probably. Would I get jealous? Maybe, but I was willing to give it a shot. Hey, you can't fly the friendly skies and not expect a little turbulence.

I pulled up to the light and some shiny new Beemer pulled up next to me. I tried to concentrate on traffic, timing out when the signal would change, and realized there was a high-speed blonde staring at me.

I gave her a smile -- and she blew me a kiss before stomping on the accelerator, leaving me in the dust. I think she was flirting.

Life is weird.

#

Circled the block around "The Other Door," and sure enough: Lizzy's Jeep was already parked nearby.

She got herself a head-start.

I parked a couple blocks away, because fucking Friday night NoHo, but I didn't mind the extra steps, especially if I was going to put back a beer or two.

Closing in, even this early, there was already a crowd around the entrance. Memories flooded back: two months ago, I met her here. Had no idea what I was getting myself into that night.

Bouncer didn't even need to ask: I had my ID out. No words traded, just a fist-bump between us as I walked in.

Inside, it was wall-to-wall people and noisy as hell. Super colorful: pictures everywhere, billiard tables, a live band... and the bar.

I saw Lizzy talking to the bartender -- who was a girl. That would be interesting. Not what I had in mind, originally, but I wouldn't decline.

No, on a longer look, this was purely platonic.

Shame.

Waitress came by and I ordered a water. Surprised myself a little.

I hung back and watched Lizzy a minute. The whole time, the same few thoughts kept cycling through my head: my girlfriend had blown her boss at work yesterday. I knew it, and while obviously nobody else knew it, it felt like EVERYBODY else knew it.

That turned me on. For some reason, that really turned me on.

The more I looked at the people around her, the more I projected into every interaction. Guy in a red shirt, guy in a green shirt, another bartender; they all knew.

It didn't stop when she picked up her beer and wandered through the crowd... right to my table. "Is this seat taken?"

"No, please. Join me."

She leaned across the table, her stage whisper just enough to carry over the crowd. "Am I being too obvious?"

"Obvious about what?" I whispered back. "I probably am, though."

She leaned closer. "Are you okay? Are we okay?"

"Yeah, we are VERY okay." I took a sip of water. "I'm learning, right now, that I've never stopped to just watch you flirt."

She gave me a long look. "So, what do you see?"

"Nothing. I'm blinded by blood-loss to my dick."

"No, seriously."

I ran a finger over her shoulder. "It's easy to see when you're interested: arms free and touchy-feely, chest high, confident... 'available'. That's sexy."

She rocked back and forth, cautiously pleased with herself. "Even with another guy?"

"Especially with another guy."

She bit her lip, looking over with those big eyes. "That's what you wanted to see, right?"

"Yeah! I'm kinda tripping out over it."

"Tripping out bad?"

"Tripping out good. It's a weird turn-on. I really want to watch this happen."

"You like watching...?"

I broke into my best Frankie Valli: "Can't take my eyes off you..."

"Baa-dap, Baa-dap, Baa-dadada-daa!" she sang back.

In unison: "I love you, baby!"

People were suddenly staring. We laughed it off and traded a kiss over the table.

She held up her bottle. "We need to get you a drink."

"In a minute. I'm enjoying a clear head."

"Does it help while you're stalking me?"

"Totally."

The big, brown eyes came out. Warm, innocent, naive, just begging to be sampled. "I want you to watch me, James."

"Watch you do what?"

"I'm totally wet... thinking about you... watching me..." She leaned in close, a sweet, innocent smile on her face as she whispered into my ear. "Go down... on another guy."

Those words. Those fucking words.

I had to adjust my package as I scanned the crowd. "So far, I've pictured you going down on our waiter at the other restaurant, that bartender over there, the bouncer at the door, and that guy in the green shirt standing at the bar."

She glanced at him before looking back at me. "The one who stood next to me just before I came over to you?"

"Yeah, I figured you'd notice him. He certainly noticed you."

She smiled. "I'd totally suck his cock."

"See? That turns me on about you."

"I want to, baby." She craned her neck, looking through the crowd. "I want to suck HIS cock."

Those words... "He's probably looking for you, right now."

She took a deep breath as she studied the inside of her empty bottle. "Should we go over there? Should we invite him over here?"

"You should go over there and feel him out."

"What do you picture happening?"

"I have no idea. Maybe we have a few drinks, stagger out together, and all wind up at my place with our cum on your face."

She gave me an honest-to-goodness squee. "Really?"

"Really."

She adjusted herself in her chair, almost standing up. "Okay, how much wiggle room do we have?"

"As much as we need. Are you going to go talk to him?"

"If you want me to," she smiled.

"I want you to." I tipped back the last of the water and knew a whiskey was next. "As for wiggle room: as much as you need to make something -- anything -- happen."

"Anything?" She bit her lip, staring at him. "How long do I have?"

"As long as it takes." I picked up her phone. "Here: turn on tracking so if you leave with him, and need rescue, I can be there pronto."

"...Or you can just follow and watch."

I grinned at her. "You have a beautifully dirty mind."

She turned on tracking and I pinged her. Pretty good: it put her dot right in the pub.

She slipped her phone back in her hip pocket. "Gawd, I feel so naughty!"

"Feel naughty? Lizzy, you ARE naughty..."

She looked at me, serious as a heart attack, the unsaid question obvious.

This was it. Drum roll... and... I gave her a slow nod.

She took a deep breath and exhaled. It looked like she was about to dive off a cliff. Instead, she looked back at the green-shirt guy and headed toward the ladies room. And that was it: decision made.

Point of no return? No. I'm sure I could swoop in but I really wanted to watch this go down. I wanted to watch her go down.

Couple minutes later, she pushed back out of the restroom and weaved through the crowd. But she wasn't coming to me. That was a gut punch and a dick yank, all in one. She stopped next to green-shirt guy but he was focused on the band.

She gave him a quick, subtle size-up. If I were to guess, she wanted to see how long it would take for him to notice her.

...Which didn't last for a second as she brushed past him to lean over the bar. She held her bottle up, trying to flag down the attention of either bartender.

No luck on a drink but green-shirt guy suddenly couldn't take his eyes off her. He leaned back and looked squarely at her ass. That ass. We've talked about this ass. Trust me, it was a magnificent view.

A second later, they made eye contact.

He was busted mid-ass-stare.

He said something. Wish I could read lips. A beat later, a laugh between them.

She leaned back over the bar, finally flagging down a bartender.

Leaning back over? That was his invitation to stare -- and he did -- but he glanced around, too. I had a feeling he was looking for her wingman.

I camouflaged myself behind a waitress. Was I a wingman? Maybe, kinda, sorta. Facilitator? Sure. Co-dependent? Probably. Voyeur, definitely.

Avoided looking their way for what felt like hours. It was one song, so maybe five minutes. Green Shirt was halfway through his drink, only a foot of social distance. That seemed close, but it was about right for how loud and packed this place was.

I had to shift away or he was going to pick up my gaze. I pulled out my phone, snuck a couple snaps of them together, and went on like I was texting somebody.

A waitress floated by and we flirted over my whiskey order.

Another twenty minutes of this and I felt like a friggin' private eye. Deep in their second drink, the distance closed to six inches and they were talking non-stop. Lots of little touches: on the shoulder, on the arm. Absolutely fucking fascinating.

And hot.

He finally excused himself and she whipped out her phone.

The text came over a second later: "OMG! Where are you?!"

"Same spot," I typed.

"Still here? Oh, thank god."

"Need rescue?"

"NO! Just wanted to make sure you didn't change your mind and ditch me."

"Ditch you?! No way! Seems like you broke the ice."

"Well, I was supposed to meet my boyfriend here but he got called in to work."

"Ooh, good one."

"Thanks!" She took a moment to scan the crowd, then shook her head. "I still don't see you."

"You're not supposed to. Pretend like I'm not here. I got called in to work, remember?"

"Right." She held up two fingers toward the bartenders, presumably asking for another round. With her other hand, she was texting. "...What am I doing right now?"

"Holding up two fingers."

She dropped her hand, then raised it again, tentative. "Jesus, that's scary!"

"I read a lotta Mike Hammer novels. I'll teach you some time."

"Would you? My nipples are so ducking hard right now."

"Sexy ducks. Him or me?"

I saw a smile -- and just a little hesitation -- as she typed. "Yes."

"Incoming..." and I put my phone away.

I leaned back, peeking from around another patron.

Sure enough, he scanned the crowd again. I made sure I was out of sight.

After a minute, way too long, I leaned just in time to see the crowd crush them together. No space between them. Zero inches.

Fuck. Actually, yes: fuck. I wanted to watch them fuck. Was that so wrong?

Another drink.

With the crowd between us, it was difficult to pick up details. Still, I could see little social cues: the touches, the connection. He rested his non-drink hand on her hip.

I snuck a few more pics.

They had another drink.

They shuffled a bit as he paid for the round, then he returned his hand back to her hip. I wish I could hear the conversation as his hand slid down her hip until it was cupping her ass.

She didn't move it.

This asshole was groping MY girlfriend's ass... and it was HOT! Yeah, I snuck a couple of grainy pictures of it. Mike Hammer, eat your heart out.

Their bodies were turned toward the bar, plus the smash of people between us, I couldn't see where her hands were.

The guy leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss, right square on the lips.

BAM!

A jolt shot through me, electric adrenaline lighting me on fire. I needed punch this motherfucker square in the mouth, but a heartbeat later I needed to him fuck Lizzy square in the mouth.

Another heartbeat. And another.

Yeah, I needed to watch him face-fuck her. Why? What was it? What was it about her cutesy, adorable face that just needed to be power-fucked? I don't know, but it did!

There was a pause between them, like they were figuring out the next step, then he gave her another kiss. This time she melted into it, returning the kiss.

BAM!

Jealousy exploded... then faded. Her kiss was her consent. The protective instinct faded, and now the face-fuck had to happen whether I was there or not.

From across the room, I watched him squeezed her ass.

BAM!

She smiled at him.

BAM!

Aw, this was happening.

Another kiss, and it was the hottest goddamned thing I'd ever seen. She was a sugar cube melting under a drop of Tabasco.

This kiss I actually got on camera.

She drained her drink and made the universal sign for the bathroom.

Once she was gone, he started scanning the crowd again.

I slid behind a tight-knit group, making myself invisible.

A moment later, a text: "OMG! He just asked if I wanted to step outside!"

"I know you do," I typed back.

"I DO!" A moment of ellipses as she was typing, then: "Sure you don't want me to suck your cock, RIGHT NOW?!"

"If you were sucking my dick, who would you be thinking about?"

"Him."

BAM!

I had to steady my thumbs to type. "Why does that turn me on so much?"

"Because YOU love that I LOVE giving head so much!"

"You're right. And I'm still at work, then?"

"I'm totally cheating on my boyfriend," she typed.

"You are such a slut. You know you have to step outside with this guy."

"What if he wants me to go home with him?"

"You went home with me on that first night, didn't you?"

A pause, then those typing ellipses again: "LAST CHANCE!"

My thumbs were twisted just typing: "Lizzy, give him ANYTHING and EVERYTHING he asks for!"

"I LOVE YOU!" A pause, then the little dots told me she was writing again. "And what if he asks for my phone number?"

"Know how much I love you..." Deep breath. "While you're giving him your number."

"OMG!"