Addicted

The joint was packed, shoulder to shoulder from the front door to the stage. The lights were low, the band was loud and body heat was beating the air conditioning. For all the crush of the crowd, though, there were only three people there.

I tilted my glass, swirling the melting ice through the whiskey.

I'd ordered it neat, but there was a big ol' ice cube, fucking it up.

That moment, I realized I'd become my drink.

This was supposed to be pure, uncut sex in an Old Fashioned glass. My voyeurism, her exhibitionism, and the spark of some stranger to light it all on fire. Instead, this cube of icy jealousy and uncertainty floated in my glass.

Watching her, the heat was melting the cube, diluting all these insecurities into seven ounces of 80-proof foreplay. Nobody else in the joint knew the real show wasn't on stage, it was by the bar.

Lizzy was letting herself get picked up.

Green-shirt guy held Lizzy's hand and cut his way through the crowd, heading toward the door. He'd grabbed her ass, he'd kissed her; he had a sure thing and he was going to make it happen.

Behind him, Lizzy let herself be pulled through the crowd. Her eyes were half-closed, a sly smile on her face. She was the prize, and anyone looking at them knew it.

I glanced at the melting ice cube, then back at my girlfriend as she headed toward the door. Green-shirt guy didn't see it, he was on a mission, but Lizzy and I made eye contact across the bar. For a moment, time stood still.

In that heartbeat, she looked at me with half-lidded eyes and pursed lips.

This was it. This was the failsafe, the point of no return.

What did I see? I saw whiskey, wanting to be sipped.

I raised my glass to her, with a nod and a smile, and took that sip.

She looked down, grinning as they disappeared out the front door.

#

A wave crashed over me. Pure adrenaline, a surge like I hadn't felt for years. Even over the band, I could hear my own heartbeat. For a fleeting moment, it sounded like I was under rotor wash.

Sweat?

My palms were sweaty.

I held the glass a little tighter, wiling the ice to my fingertips.

I swirled the cube through the whiskey, pushing it to melt.

What were they doing right now?

What was the band playing when they left? I couldn't hear the music anymore. I couldn't hear much of anything. I could only see her face. I could only see her need for him as she looked at me, on the way out the door.

Was I ready for this?

Didn't matter: I'd already signed up for it. I planned it out, as much as I could, and rolled the dice. Now the world fell out from beneath my feet, the side doors wide open and wind whippng through the cabin as we took off into the night sky.

No sand in the whiskey. Life was better already.

I wanted to knock back the whole glass in one shot. No. I had take this in sips.

That little bit of melt water... a dozen little fears mixed in to this Tennessee jet fuel. I felt every single one. Sip after sip, they were thinning out, losing to the whiskey.

By the last sip, I was missing Lizzy's face.

I was ready. I needed to see this.

Take your time, James. Let it develop.

I took another minute to hit the head, wash my hands, wash my face and wonder about the insanity of being a creeper on my cheating girlfriend.

Every texture slowed me down. The flow of the water, the wood of the door.

Images flashed through my head. Green-shirt guy kissing her. Grabbing her ass. Pulling her through the crowd. Her following. What were they doing now?

I checked my watch as I threaded my way through the crowd: eight minutes.

Nine minutes after they'd left, I was out the door. That was enough for the guy to think he wasn't being followed. Doubt he'd be thinking about Dick Tracy phone tracking.

I pinged her phone knowing she'd silenced it on her end. Her little dot popped up and I zoomed in. She was on a side street, about a block and a half from the bar. The joint had a tiny parking lot, so that wasn't surprising.

Wanted to sprint, to see, to watch... maybe intervene.

No.

Made myself walk.

The images were flowing now, my imagination deep in porno mode.

Walk.

A quick scan of the darkened street didn't help. Apartment buildings all the way down, in NoHo, and both sides of the street were packed.

One block down, only half to go, I pulled my phone out to confirm her dot was still in the same place. Yup. Pinging on the street, no less, so she had to be in a car.

Or at least her phone was in a car. I was suddenly worried.

I tried to look casual as I strolled down the sidewalk. About halfway down the block, there was a car with foggy windows. I didn't need to ping her phone to know she was in there.

I eased off the sidewalk, edging closer to the apartment buildings, deeper into the shadows.

My eyes adjusted and I saw a person sitting in the driver's seat. Okay, that's one. Where's...?

Holy shit, there it was.

Another adrenaline rush as I watched her head bobbing up and down in his lap.

This was the whiskey.

Green-shirt guy was looking down at her, obviously enjoying it.

I watched the back of her head surface and disappear over and over. I couldn't see his dick in her mouth, and I wanted to, but this... maybe this was better.

Where was my ice cube? There it was: a sudden comparison to yesterday, hearing about how she'd blown her boss. And now...? Now, she was giving head to some stranger she just met in a bar.

Yeah, this was dirty. No. No, it wasn't. It was absolutely filthy!

We'd planned this together, yet it still felt like she was cheating...

I watched her head bob in his lap.

It was a gut punch: she really was a slut. I knew that before, right? I thought I knew that. Thought I connected all the dots. But there it was.

A couple months ago, she'd done this with me... to somebody else.

It wasn't real until it happened to me, so... Slut. Yeah.

I was judging her. Totally judging her. I poured every bit of that derisive, pejorative, belittling term onto my image of her. It felt she wanted me to. She wanted me to label her: this is who she really was.

Next time we talked, she was going to ask. I knew she was going ask, because right now, I was asking: did I still love her?

The answer was already there. Didn't even have to think about it.

I watched the back of her head, knowing her face was bouncing up and down in his lap, his dick fucking her mouth.

My girlfriend was cheating on me...

Sitting in the front seat of some stranger's car.

Jealousy? A bit, yeah, so I knew I hadn't completely blown a fuse. I was still feeling. There was a bit of jealousy there, but no anger.

Was that good? Or did I not care?

The windows were getting foggier. From the shadows, twenty yards away, I studied the back of her head...

I wasn't angry; at least I knew that much. The rest was a jumble. Arousal. Concern. Care... Yeah, I definitely fucking cared.

I watched Lizzy's head bob in his lap. Right now, some other guy's cock was sliding over that cock-sucking lip of hers.

This was her. She was a slut. A cheating slut.

Sort of. Mostly. Kind of. That jumble again.

A thought settled in: no matter who she was with, this was her natural state. Her hobby was wrapping her lips around some other guy's cock. Any other guy's cock. That's what it meant to be a slut, at least for her.

Could I handle that? Felt selfish to even ask, but as my girlfriend was going down on some other guy, a little self-care was absolutely necessary. Could I handle being in a long-term relationship with a girl who got off on stepping out?

She wasn't doing it as a prelude to running away, was she?

Shook my head, knowing her history. She'd always tried to reconcile after her cheats. Her "nice guy" boyfriends were always too stung to go on.

I stared through the steamed-up windows as she fed her craving. Her impulse. Her need. A cute girl with an oral fixation was incredibly handy to have around.

"Around" around? Like "commit my heart to her" kind of around?

Nodded despite myself. This was really strong whiskey.

I watched the silhouettes and savored the buzz.

A minute later: What the fuck, dude? How is it you haven't cum yet?

Oh, yeah: five fucking drinks before you left.

Through the foggy glass, I watched him rest his hand on the back of her neck.

I knew exactly what he was feeling and I had to capture the moment. I pulled out my phone and switched the camera to video. Let me say it again, the low-light on these new models is amazing. I got a good thirty seconds of her bobbing her face in his lap, in a car, on some side street in North Hollywood.

Why did I suddenly want to upload this?

A second later, he arched his back in the bucket seat.

She pulled back, just a bit, her face still in his lap. He was coming on her face.

A spike of adrenaline lit me up: that second, I was coming on her face through him. It wasn't quite enough to spark my own orgasm, but it was close.

This was amazing.

And then... something else. What was this...? That little bit of jealousy was talking. What was it saying? Dump her? Fuck no! It was telling me I needed to reclaim her. "Care" was making itself known.

Another pang. What was it? Anger? No, impatience. They were still fucking talking. Blah, blah, blah went on for another 30 seconds. My dick spoke for me: Get Out of The Car.

What if they drove off together? What if they spent the night? A shot of worry, a shot of excitement... I had to be prepared for that. I'd rub one out, but I'm sure I'd have plenty left when we reconnected.

...And she was getting out of the car.

No goodbye kiss (gosh, wonder why), then she closed the door behind her. She gave him a little wave and a smile, then boom -- he pulled out and drove away.

Lizzy touched her cheek, then looked around, suddenly self-conscious.

She reached for her phone and I sauntered out of the shadows.

"Well, that was hot."

She screamed, then muffled herself. A second later, she scampered over and pulled me back into the shadows. "I can't believe I just did that!"

"As if you've never done anything like that before, Ms Hundred-and-six?"

"Well, no, I have -- a hundred and seven times now -- but not while I had a boyfriend!"

"Your boyfriend thought it was hot. You know what's almost as hot? Talking about you doing it." I studied her in the diffuse glow of distant street lights. "Even hotter? Talking to you, in public, with cum on your face."

She glanced around as she touched her cheek again. "Even if it's another guy's cum?"

"Especially since it's another guy's cum."

I held up a hand as I pulled out my phone back out. "Smile?"

She did, so goddamned cute, and the camera caught every shiny drop of jjzz spattered across her little chipmunk cheeks.

"This really is the cutest you've ever looked."

Her eyes sparkled at the compliment. "I have to do something!"

She pulled me to the dark, narrow little passage between the apartment building and slid to her knees. "I asked how he wanted it, he asked how I wanted it... I told him I wanted his cum on my face."

"You are amazing. It's a good visual."

"I knew you'd like it!" She gave my shaft a wet-down suck and a few bobs. "I hoped you'd see it still-fresh."

"I saw the back of your head bobbing in his lap. That was incredible."

She paused, looking up at me. "Was it?"

"It was. It really was."

"It WAS incredible! I'm so glad you saw it! God, I LOVE sucking cock!" She looked up with big eyes and a bigger smile: "I have never loved sucking a cock more than THAT one!"

"Right?! Wait..." It was hard to breathe for a second. Could I really handle this? "Because it was other guy's cock?"

She took a long, pleading suck on my shaft. "Do you still love me?"

Wow. And there it was. I stared down at that cute, cum-splattered face... and knew I could never let that go.

"I do," I nodded. "This is so incredibly fucked up, and yet... I definitely do."

She closed her eyes, like she was savoring the words... but she never stopped stroking me. "James, ever since Starbucks, I've wanted to go down on you with another guy's cum on my face."

I nodded, guiding her mouth back to my dick.

For a minute, I watched the splatter dry on her face. I gave her a little feedback: "Another guy's cum on my girlfriend's face -- your face, Lizzy -- is the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"Thank you," she whispered.

By the look on her face, it was the validation she needed.

This was too much of a good thing: I didn't want to come yet. For another minute, I just closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation.

Then I had to peek again. I saw that cum on her face, glistening in the streetlights. Maybe I was wrong, but it seemed every second she sucked my cock, while feeling some other guy's come on her face, reinforced the affirmation.

I took a little more video to capture the moment.

I nodded, staring at her. "How does it feel?"

She glanced at the camera, then looked at me as she answered. "To be a cheating slut...?"

Not exactly what I was asking, but it was close enough. "Sure, yeah."

"Natural..." She grinned. "It feels like... me."

"It IS you. It is definitely you."

She went back to sucking my cock, lavishing lip love up and down the shaft. It was good for a moment, then she stopped and looked up at me. "You know what feels the most amazing?"

Didn't even realize I was still recording. "What?"

"That you know... and you still love me."

There. That. I needed that.

I reached down and touched the side of her face, gliding my fingers across her cum-sprinkled chipmunk cheeks. The ice had melted. It had all gone away. "Yeah, not gonna lie: this is my new favorite foreplay."

She leaned back, smiling up at me as she stroked. "Watching your slutty girlfriend suck some guy's dick?"

"Yes."

"Well, he knows I'm a cheater... so he asked for my phone number."

Right there, I almost came. "Did you give it to him?"

"Yes! I told him text only, and only during office hours so I didn't get caught."

"Jesus!" I laughed.

She felt me tighten and she leaned closer, aiming my dick square at her nose. "I love you, James, I love you so much... but I loved sucking his cock more than anything!"

Boom. That's who she was. And suddenly, I was coming.

Standing in the dark, on the front lawn of some apartment building, I blasted a rope right across her cheating slut face.

Everybody need to see her, right this second...

She looked up me. "James?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."