Disclaimers: Standard stuff. Anyone partaking in sexy shit is eighteen, or older. Any items pertaining to law, or law enforcement is according to me! Anything pertaining to the use of modern technology used to gather information, is also according to me. Last, and certainly not least. THIS STORY IS FICTIONAL!!
This is my entry into Blackrandi1958's invitational, paying homage to the 1980 song by Chris Isaac, titled 'Wicked Games'
If you're looking for a lot of quick sex, look elsewhere. Be forewarned.
If I happen to use a derogatory term associated with someone's sexual preferences, be advised I'm not in the habit of using such terms in my real life. Again, be forewarned.
I'd like to thank the amazing Randi for even considering one of my stories to be worthy of her prestigious event.
Since I'm not familiar with this song, I'm hoping my effort is found to be suitable.
There are two distinct parts to my story. The first part could be considered LW, even though the hero of the story didn't marry the cheating bitch you'll learn about. The second part is a bit of romance, but I'll decide when my story is submitted, which category it will land in.
The title of my story refers to the 1952 song recorded by two music legends, Pearl Bailey and Louis Armstrong. Since those two recordings, its been covered by countless singers over the years.
Let me introduce myself. I'm Karl Fuller, a twenty-seven year old computer guy. Ever since I can remember, I've been interested in anything to do with any computer I could get my hands on.
I started tinkering with my first home computer when I was ten or eleven years old. Whenever I could, I took each and every computer class offered in whatever school I was attending.
Both of my parents always encouraged me in whatever I'd find to increase my knowledge. Along with my older sister, Kayla, who always wanted to be a lawyer, we were given every opportunity to learn everything we could find.
As I grew older, I also developed a normal desire to start dating members of the opposite sex. Did I have any success? Not really. I did have a few first dates in high school, but few second dates.
I realized that high school girls liked to play the field, which was fine by me, but I seemed to attract several girls who relished the idea of rubbing my nose in the fact that they were 'upgrading' from me.
I went through high school fairly lonely, with a growing distrust of the opposite sex.
After graduation, I found a two year program at a local community college that more than filled my educational needs.
It seemed like my dating history followed me from high school right into this setting, too.
Yes, I had some dates, some of which seemed promising. Second dates, however, were few and far between.
I actually found what I thought was a very nice girl, Andrea Hobbs, who not only went out with me on a second and third date, she actually helped relieve me of my virginity!
Calling this experience fantastic was an understatement. Until I heard her telling a group of her friends that I helped her reach her monthly total of ten different fuckings, as she began having trouble finding boys who weren't aware of her willingness to share her body with almost anybody.
This did put a crimp in my dating, as I began to wonder if I was destined to remain single the rest of my life. Not that being single is all that bad, because I reasoned single is far better than being made a fool of.
As I finished my two year program, I easily found work within the law enforcement community, plus several law firms who were in need of investigative information.
Everything I did was well within the law, as I made it clear to several law firms that I wouldn't break any laws for them. No matter how much money they offered me.
As I began picking up more clients, I did find a few girls to date, and was lucky enough to find my way into their panties on more than a few occasions. I do have to admit that none of them ever rose to the level of wife material. There were some who were one night stands, or even two night stands, but something was always missing to become anything close to a long lasting relationship.
I do admit that the law firm my sister worked for supplied me with enough cases to keep me busy, as well as affording me a fairly nice living. This arrangement had my sister trying to fix me up with several girls, but with some of them coming off of nasty divorces, I knew to keep my distance.
I was contacted by a fairly large and successful land developer to do some research into several properties he was interested in purchasing.
Neal Jefferson asked me to look into the owners of several parcels of land, and after meeting with him for nearly thirty minutes, I felt like I needed to take a shower. Some of what he wanted to know was way out of bounds. He wanted to know about their wives or girlfriends, neither of which had any bearing on land purchases.
He just gave off this 'vibe' that just didn't set well with me. Slick. Sleazy. My shit doesn't stick attitude.
We parted company, knowing I wouldn't do business with him. Ever.
Along with my business picking up, I found a nice young lady, who after having coffee with on several occasions, did agree to go out with me. Molly Howard was a very quiet girl, a year or two older than me, who just happened to get her afternoon coffee where I did.
We found it very easy to talk to each other. I knew she was a secretary in some real estate office, and had two roommates, who all shared living in an old house not too far from downtown.
We did have a few dates, that ended up in fairly heavy make-out sessions, with me finding my way into her B cup bra, and even into her very skimpy panties. On our third date, she did agree to come back to my house, as I lived alone, and wouldn't have to deal with roommates.
As we fell onto my bed, with most of our clothes having been discarded, I found just how much she absolutely loved having my tongue between her very welcoming pussy lips. I also found out how well versed she was in the art of cocksucking.
After draining each other, and relaxing in each others arms, she did quietly ask if I had a condom, or two.
Taking a few minutes to recover, we were off to the races, fucking as if our lives depended on it. We did manage to try several positions. Each with unbridled success.
Never was there any doubt in my mind that my fairly thick seven inches didn't fulfill its purpose. Molly must have cum nearly a half dozen times, demonstrating a very vocal response, with each and every orgasm.
It almost seemed as our very first night together was for the express purpose of fucking our brains out.
We did finally get a decent night's sleep, and when I awoke, I realized my rock hard cock was buried deep in Molly's throat.
With one of her hands softly cupping my balls, and her head slowly bobbing up and down, I moved myself around to get my tongue buried deep into her very welcoming sex.
I soon found out that she enjoyed my oral onslaught, almost as much as I did giving it. I do admit that when I exploded, deep into her throat, I didn't object her letting my load drip back down my still rock hard manhood.
As soon as she let my cock slide out of her mouth, she rolled me over, mounting me as she leaned over, kissing me letting me taste her cum coated tongue.
While not that unpleasant, my thoughts were aimed at pleasing her, yet again. Damn, I loved this fantastic sex, but had the idea in the back of my mind, could we succeed as a couple ourside of the bedroom?
After our morning romp, we set out to answer that, and many more questions.
For the remainder of that weekend, we did some normal couples things. We visited a few of the popular tourist spots. We enjoyed each other's company. We acted like two people who were learning to enjoy life as a potential couple.
As the weeks turned into months, we found spending time together was becoming more and more enjoyable. We even started talking about her moving in with me. After all, she was staying at my house every weekend, and we both were becoming closer, and closer.
When she finally moved in with me, she hinted that it might take a while, in this arrangement, to move us to the next level.
We both knew that meant the possibility of marriage. My one caution to myself was the fact that the real estate office she worked at, was Jefferson Properties. Yep, owned by that slimy creep, Neal Jefferson.
Did she work closely with him? I didn't know, and at first, didn't ask.
With my business keeping me very busy, I pushed that information to the back burner. I had more important things to concern myself with. Or so I thought.
For the next three months, not only was our sex life smoking hot, we, or should I say, I thought this might be the relationship I'd been dreaming about for years.
There was absolutely nothing we didn't try, at least once. After all, how would we ever know what we liked, or didn't like unless we tried it?
Virtually everything we tried, we loved. In every room. In every conceivable position. Nothing wasn't tried, at least once. We both admitted nothing we did wasn't top notch. We also admitted there were several things we enjoyed more than one particular item.
Yes, anal was tried, and while we both did get off during our first experience, we also decided not to make that a must. There were too many other things we loved to do.
With her parents living on the other side of the country, we both talked on the phone, and did some face timing. We all seemed to get along.
The first time we met with my parents, Harold and Harriet, we talked for quite a while, and it seemed to me that we all got along.
The following Monday, when I was at work, I got a call from mom, telling me something just didn't feel right to her.
"Your father thinks the same thing, Karl, but he wanted me to be the one to call you."
"What is it about her that makes you both skeptical?"
"Call it woman's intuition, or mother's intuition, but something just didn't seem right. Both your dad and I want you to know we'll back whatever decision you make."
A few days later, my sister, Kayla, called telling me she wanted to talk, face to face. Just her and me.
Meeting at her office, she started off by telling me of her conversation with our parents.
"I'm sure mom has told you about her misgivings about Molly, right?"
"Plus the face that dad has some of those same feelings, and dad likes everyone."
"So, where do you go from here, Karl?"
"Right now, I'm not sure, since she hasn't given me any reason not to fully trust her. We've talked just a little about moving forward, and we all know what that might entail, so I'd rather do some checking before I possibly make a huge mistake."
"Good thinking. I seem to remember some of your dating woes in both high school and college. I hope you know, all of us are hoping you find happiness. Either with Molly, or someone else, in the future."
For the next several weeks, things remained the same. Our sex life was still scorching hot, but little was being said about moving our relationship to the next level.
It must have been about seven or eight months after her moving in with me, that one Friday afternoon she called me and told me she and a few of the girls were going to stop for a drink or two, after work.
I didn't think I had anything to worry about, and enjoyed my afternoon, by myself, at home.
It must have been around 7 o'clock when I received a text telling me that she was having dinner with these girls, and she'd be home around 9'ish.
By 10 o'clock, and no Molly, I used my 'find my phone' app, and located her phone. Much to my chagrin, it was located on the top floor of the Jefferson Building.
This alone started my blood boiling, but I convinced myself to wait and hear her explanation when she got home.
When I heard her trying to get into the house, quietly, I was sitting in the darkened living room, eager to hear what I thought would be some bullshit story.
"Molly, did you forget the time?" I said, quietly.
"Um, I guess I should have called, but I didn't want to wake you up."
"Its after 11:30, and you told me at 7 you and the girls were going to dinner."
