Bedding the Trophy Wife
This is a one-part story about a fantasy that becomes real. Enjoy!
I love parties, particularly holiday parties, when everyone gets dressed up and tries their best to look as sexy as humanly possible.
Some
of my friends look forward to these events because it means an open bar, free food, and dancing without a cover charge. Others tolerate them as a drudgery, some chore to get over with as quickly as possible, in order to enjoy the season itself. One possible exception to my enjoyment of parties is that of my place of business, a major financial firm with multimillion dollar investors and all of the drama that comes along with it.
I go by Desiree, and have made my mark in the male-dominated company, closing more business than anyone else and certainly one of the most successful consultants there. Naturally that threatened the "good old boys' club" but for the most part I have risen above that, with the exception of attacks on my sexuality. I am a happily single feminine lesbian, and I have endured insulting and sometimes nasty innuendos on the part of some of them, but have also hauled a few of their asses in front of human resources and won that fight. You may have heard the phrase about winning the battle but losing the war, and a few of the worst offenders found ways to still get their digs in without running afoul of policy guidelines.
I usually stay at the Hilton hotel that the company hosts the party at, that way I can drink and dance as much as I want and not have to concern myself with the problem of getting back to my home. I paused in front of the mirror and gave myself one final look-over and was pleased. My jet black hair was draped over my shoulders, bare except for the straps of the tight leather dress, which proudly displayed my ample cleavage generously but tastefully. The remainder of the dress hugged my body tightly, ending well above the knees and showing off my toned legs. My olive skin tone added a lovely touch to the reflection smiling back at me, so I blew a kiss and made my way out the door and down to the party.
As I slipped into the ballroom, the music hit me like a runaway truck, forcing me to wait a few moments for my ears to adjust to the booming noise pounding about the place.I grabbed a drink from the bar closest to the door and giggled, as it was stronger than I expected. I saw a few of my colleagues milling about the hall, and a few of them even on the dance floor, giving me the feeling that it would be quite a fun evening.
I licked my lips to get some of the lingering taste of the drink without taking a sip, enjoying the sensation as I looked around and waved to a few female friends. I was in good spirits until I saw a small gathering of men--most of whom I called my
anti
-fan club--and of them sneered in my direction.
Bastards, careful or I might bed your pretty straight wife
, I thought, now taking a full slip of my cosmopolitan. Granted, it was a silly and problematic idea, but for a moment the image of them walking in while going down on their wife did give me a shiver. I pushed the thought from my mind and felt myself relaxing as the drinks kicked in, dancing a few times and chatting with friends at other moments.
"Welllll look who it is!" a voice slurred behind me.
Damnit, there goes my pleasant evening
, I said to myself, gritting my teeth. I turned around slowly to see Charles Remington with a stupid grin on his face. Of all the men that I have tangled with regarding my sexual orientation, he was the absolute
worst
! Charles was not only a first-class asshole, but his ethics were often questionable, and I had seen him engaging in extracurricular activities with women who were not his wife. I had met his lovely wife Marianne a couple of times and honestly felt sorry for her.
"Hello Chuckles." I said in a snaky tone, hand poised to heave the drink into his face if he said something inappropriate. I knew he hated being called that, but it seemed fair given his endless insults.
"You gotta get some...new mater...ial" he said with a snort.
"Oh you are so clever! I will get right on that. Now if you will excuse me." I said in a stern tone, trying to avoid a confrontation in such a public setting.
As I turned to go, Charles grabbed my arm, which infuriated me, and clearly crossed the line into unwelcome contact. As he opened his mouth to utter what I was certain would be homophobic insults, I reached and grabbed his thumb, and bent it backwards a bit, causing enough pain that the words got stuck in his throat. Muttering something under his breath, he snatched his hand away and scurried off like a wounded animal.
I shook off the encounter and made my way to a bar in the far corner of the hall that had very little traffic, except for a gorgeous blonde girl who was facing away from me as I approached. Her long white gown hugged her body in a tasteful way, and revealed her shoulder blades and a mole just to the right of her spine. Her neck was smooth and supple and for a moment the image of burying my face there was vivid in my mind.
"Oh hey, I remember you. It's Desiree, right?" I heard her ask.
Turning to her, I was caught a little off guard, realizing it was Marianne, who was married to the idiot I had just gotten away from. Smiling, I answered, "Good memory, yes, and you are Marianne." I said, a statement rather than a question.
Marianne's dress was a bit daring, revealing more of her large breasts, while concealing her legs considerably. Her red lips were upturned in a smile, and her green eyes twinkled as if she had met a friend she hadn't seen in ages. To my utter surprise, she leaned in and gave me a hug, and even though it only lasted a moment it pushed wicked thoughts into my mind.
"Wow, great memory, especially for the brief times we have run into each other." I said with a smile and a giggle, silently cursing that she was very straight, a fact I had known for a while.
Marianne lifted her glass up in an exaggerated gesture and clinked it with mine playfully. "To great memory, while it lasts." she said, smiling and laughing again, adding a wink.
"Here, here!" I chirped, my eyes running down her neck to the sexy valley of her breasts while her eyes were diverted. Everything about her was sexy, tempting, and delicious, and I let images of my face wedged in her cleavage run rampant through my mind for a moment. I had to be careful, Marianne knew I was a lesbian, and the last thing I wanted to do was make her feel like a piece of meat. Unfortunately, she caught me just as I was looking away.
Marianne broke into a smile and began to giggle profusely, which I found ridiculously adorable, making me break out in a smile. "Gotta say, not ever noticed another woman checking me out before." she said, still giggling.
At that statement, I did something I almost never do, I blushed beet red, and stumbled over my words like I was a preschooler. "Oh...shit...um...I wasn't trying..." I stammered, feeling very self conscious all of a sudden, expecting her to run for the hills at any moment.
"Oh relax, I was just giving you shit, but watching you get all flustered was cute, and no I am not flirting when I say that."