Author's note: Recently, a friend of mine told me she was going on a date with her ex's ex. That sounded like the title of a Literotica story, so I decided to write it.
This story is set in Austin, Texas where I have lived in or near since I was nine years old. A familiarity with the city is helpful, but not necessary to appreciate some of the cultural and geographic details.
Standard disclaimer: All sexual activity described in this story is between consenting adults over 18.
Enjoy!
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Sandy sat at the bar alone, nursing her vodka and Sprite. It had been less than three months since her breakup with Matt. She rarely drank, and she really hadn't wanted to go out, but her friend Carol had insisted they go to this new, trendy club in South Austin. But as soon as they had ordered their drinks, Carol found a group of old friends that she wanted to chat with and abandoned Sandy. Sandy was pondering whether after she finished her drink she wanted to wait for Carol or just hail a ride from Lyft. Either way, she felt uncomfortable and lonely in a bar full of (mostly) strangers.
And just when she thought things couldn't get more awkward, they did. She heard a familiar voice from right behind her say "Sandy? Is that you?"
It was Matt's ex-wife Jen, the last person she wanted to see on her first night out after her breakup.
It didn't help matters that Jen was movie-star gorgeous, standing at 5'9" with long naturally blond hair and a body like Marilyn Monroe—voluptuous but not heavy. She was 34 but could have passed for ten years younger, with a face that looked halfway between Charlize Theron and Amy Adams when they were that age. Tonight, she was wearing a low-cut strapless blue satin cocktail dress that hugged her curves in all the right places and brought out her sapphire-blue eyes. She also had on spike-heeled shoes that made her close to six feet tall.
Sandy had always felt dumpy in comparison to Jen at just 5'4" with a scrawny build and small A-cup breasts. Her eyes were a dull gray-hazel color behind a pair of oversized glasses with square black frames that gave her a serious look. She was younger than Jen by six years, but it didn't make her feel more confident, just less grown-up. In the past, she had bleached her hair for Matt, but after the break-up she quit coloring it and had cut it short a week ago, so it was now dishwater brown with frosted tips where there was residual bleaching. And tonight, she felt even more insecure next to Jen since she didn't have any makeup on and was wearing pale jeans, an old gray wife-beater that was fraying at the trim, and a plain white pair of canvas tennis shoes.
Matt and Jen had remained friends since their divorce, and Sandy had tried to be friendly with her for Matt's sake. But every time the three of them were in the same room together, Jen would give the skunk-eye to the other two.
"Where's Matt?"
"If you must know, we broke up a few months ago. He said he 'needed his space,' whatever the hell that means."
"Oh, no!" Jen seemed to look disappointed, but Sandy knew better.
"Please! Don't pretend like you're sad about this, okay? I saw the way you looked at us. Like you hated the two of us being together! Like it made you physically ill! Like I wasn't good enough for Matt! Well congratu-fucking-lations, bitch! He's all yours again! I don't even care anymore!"
"Oh, my God! Was I that obvious? Wait!" Jen grabbed Sandy's arm as she was getting up. "Before you walk away, let me explain. Yes, it's true, I didn't like the two of you being together. But it's not like you think. I didn't like it because there was no way he was good enough for you."
"Oh, bullshit!"
"No, it's true! The few times we spoke together alone, I could tell that you were a very intelligent woman. Probably smarter than me, even. And I kept hoping you'd finally figure out that Matt was holding you back. God knows, it took me long enough. Six fucking years! At least you weren't stupid enough to marry him like I was!" Jen ruefully chuckled to herself.
"But. . .but. . .he dumped me! And he said he dumped you, too."
"Because he felt threatened. Listen. Did you recently get a raise or a promotion or something?"
"I finished night school this spring. I have my CPA now and I'm working for a little start-up in North Austin near the Domain."
"That's why he dumped you. He can't handle being with someone he can't dominate. I don't mean like bondage or anything like that. I mean like tell you what to eat, what to read, who to vote for. If he can't make your life decisions for you, he gets frustrated."
"Was that why he divorced you? He always made it sound like you drove him to leave."
"Well, I guess I sorta did. You'll have to ask me again sometime. Somewhere more private than this place." Jen gave Sandy a naughty wink.
Could Jen be flirting with her? Sandy thought it over and the idea was. . .not unpleasant. Sandy had had a few experiences with women, and she privately acknowledged to herself that she was probably bisexual. But even though Austin was a very LBGT-friendly community, she had always had reservations about coming out. She had grown up in a small country town where that was frowned upon. And some of her co-workers lived in the surrounding counties, which—unlike Austin—were very conservative religiously and politically.
Right then, Carol came up to Sandy and without taking a breath or waiting for a response said "Hey, Sandy. Me and my friends are gonna head up to East 6th. Do you think you'll be good on your own? Bye!"
So now Sandy was stuck in a loud, crowded place where the only person she knew made her confused. Years of animosity were battling with this new attraction she was feeling. She didn't know if the attraction was real or just the alcohol, and she wasn't sure if Jen was really coming on to her or was just being friendly.
She was fishing in her purse for her cell phone to hail a ride when Jen grabbed her wrist.
"Hey. Why don't we head over to my place for a night-cap. We can talk shit about Matt and then I can give you a ride home if you want. Or you can stay over in the spare bedroom."
It was only 10 p.m.—early by the standards for Austin weekend night life—and Sandy wasn't especially tired, so she figured why not? The worst that could happen was that they would go back to resenting each other the same as before.
They left the club together. But instead of heading to the parking lot, they walked two blocks to one of the mixed-use buildings on South Lamar that contained retail on the ground floor, offices facing the street and apartments on the side and in the rear. Jen made a face that conveyed a mixture of disgust and disappointment. "I know. Too 'new Austin,' right?"
They entered the parking garage and walked to an elevator marked "For residents and guests only." Jen swiped her keychain past a magnetic pad and the elevator door opened for them.
They got out on the fourth floor and as Jen led Sandy into her apartment she said, "I would've preferred a little bungalow or a duplex, but this is all that was available located somewhere that isn't a complete fucking nightmare to get to and from downtown during rush hour. Thank God I make enough money so rent isn't an issue."
All Sandy could think as she surveyed the spacious apartment with hardwood floors and ultra-modern décor is that it sure beat the shit out of her little efficiency in a run-down complex near 183.
"So what's your poison? Wine? Vodka? Tequila? Cognac? Scotch? Bourbon? Wild Turkey? Fireball?"
"I'd like a glass of white wine if you have any."
