The Ex

I was at a party with Bryce, my husband, when this dumb woman turned around and carelessly bumped into him. She looked at him as she took a step back and I could almost see her lip curl as though she smelt something bad.

"Bryce," she said, lowering the ambient temperature by ten degrees with the chill in her voice.

"Nardia," said Bryce, lifting the temperature back up with the warmth of his reply. "How go things?"

"Fine," she said. "I'm married. This is Neale."

You'd think she was running him up a flag and saluting the way she said it. A 'see - I've got a prize' sort of voice.

"Congratulations," said Bryce, almost sounding as though he meant it. "I'm married, too. This is Cherri."

Nardia glanced at me and I could see her dismissing me as a brainless bimbo. What a bitch.

"What do you think of them?" asked Bryce once we'd gone our separate ways.

"She's a bitch," I said candidly. "He's something of a stud, though."

"You've got her pegged," he agreed, "although she was always good in bed. Not as good as you, mind, but not bad."

"Really? Just what are you up to?"

"Me. Nothing. You're so suspicious. It's shameful."

"Uh-huh."

"Still, if I was to give you the nod could you take him out of circulation for half an hour or so?"

"Easy. If you're thinking of fucking that woman I don't think she's likely to agree. She didn't seem too impressed with you."

"Would I cheat on you?" he demanded.

"Like a shot," I told him. Did he really think I was dumb because I'm blonde?

"Maybe," he said, "but I'm not intending to ask Nardia for sex if that's what worries you."

"It doesn't worry me nearly as much as you going to the slammer for rape."

"Will never happen," he said.

Maybe, maybe not, but I had a suspicion that he intended to fuck Nardia whether she agreed or not. Probably without asking.

I had him take me for a stroll through the gardens which were quite extensive. The owner had put a lot of work into getting these established. I also made a note of a couple of secluded spots.

We'd been back with the main party for a while when Bryce told me to take Neale out of the picture for a while.

"I'll have him show me the gardens," I told him.

I ran into Neale just as it looked as though he was going to head into the house. When I say ran into I mean that literally. He bounced quite nicely against my cushions. Needless to say he looked down, getting an eyeful of my cleavage.

"You're Neale, aren't you?" I asked him. "Married to that nice Nardia."

"Ah, yes, and you're Cherri, yes?"

"Sort of. My names actually Cheryl but Cherri sounds so much more feminine, doesn't it." (More bimbo blonde was what I meant.)

"Yes, yes indeed. A good choice of a name."

"I say, could you walk me around the gardens for a while? I was going to have Bryce do it but he's drinking with some friends."

"Ah, certainly. I'd be delighted."

We strolled of into the gardens, me pressing against him so that he could feel the lushness of my bosom. As we walked he commented on the gardens and I asked him about himself, his work, his hobbies, listening enthralled as he rabbited on. Get a man talking about himself and he's putty in your hands.

We'd just reached one of the secluded places in the garden when I gave a little squeak and plastered myself against Neale.

"There's something in the bushes," I said, waving a trebling hand at them.

My hero took a step towards the bushes, stamping his foot, and a cat went streaking away.

"Oh, it's only a cat," I gasped. "It's just that it gave me a shock. My heart's beating like crazy. Just feel it."

I took his hand and placed it against my heart. He went still, making sure he had a good feel of the beating of my heart. Or of something, anyway. To my surprise he looked a little flushed.

I looked around us, noticing how secluded we were.

"Oh, my, we're all alone out here. It's fortunate you're not the type to take advantage of a girl." (Fine words, but he was still checking my heartbeat)

"Certainly not," he confirmed. "Wouldn't think of it."

By an odd chance my hand brushed against the front of his trousers and I gave a maidenly gasp of horror and jerked it quickly away.

"Oh my goodness, you are thinking of it," I gasped. "That thing is enormous. It wouldn't be like that if you didn't intend to molest me. Shame on you."

At the same time I jerked my hand away from his groin I sort of twitched the side of my dress. This caused it to drop lower on one side, my breast popping out. It had to be the one his hand was resting on, didn't it. He was now holding my naked breast.

"Oh my," I gasped. "What are you doing. "I suppose you'll be unzipping next."

He certainly was as I was helping him do it. It doesn't take much effort to move an erection from inside to outside of a pair of trousers. I have to admit that Neale had quite a sizeable one.

Had I distracted him for long enough, I wondered? Probably not. A little longer wouldn't hurt. Twitching the other side of my dress meant that my other breast popped into view and Neale's eyes were wide open and looking. Then his other hand came up and he had that one covered as well.

I backed away from but he moved right along with me, perhaps because I was still holding his erection. After a moment I couldn't back away any further because I was leaning against the fence.

I was wearing thong panties, and rather skimpy ones at that. I reached down and slipped a finger under the crotch, pulling them away from me and to the side, effectively baring my vulva. I was now defenceless if he made any untoward moves.

Neale was leaning into me, still stroking my breasts, the look on his face saying he didn't believe he was doing that. I naturally tried to hold his erection away but when he got too close it seemed to instinctively position itself where he could just push home.

As soon as he started pushing, his cock sliding up into me, I started complaining.

"Neale, how can you do this?" I protested. "You're married, you know. So am I. You should be ashamed of yourself."

The way he was now pushing home didn't indicate a sense of shame. A sense of eager lust with a touch of surprise that he was doing this, but no shame. It's shocking the way men behave.

Now that he'd started his assault he started piling it on, thrusting into me repeatedly, lustfully, thoroughly enjoying this unexpected present. I was very much incidental to what he was doing, just the vessel on which he was slating his unrestrained lust.

Purely as a matter of self-defence I was moving with him, pushing hard against him, taking him deep within me with each eager thrust. My breasts were swollen and alive, my nipples sensitive under his touch, exciting me.

He was way over-excited by this time with no control over what he was doing. He was going to cut loose at any moment which was fine by me. I was ready for him. He gave a deep groan and that was it for him. He started jerking spasmodically, spraying himself inside me, just what I needed for my own climax to trigger, clamping tight around his cock and draining him completely.

He pulled away from me and for a moment I thought he was going to collapse to the ground. He caught himself, but he went pale, and flushed. I got in before he said anything.

"No," I said, holding up a hand while straightening the top of my dress with the other. "Don't say anything. I don't want an apology or anything like that. Just try to act the gentleman and don't mention this to anyone. I'd be so ashamed if anyone found out what you did."

With that I stalked off, all offended dignity, pausing for a moment as soon as I was out of sight to adjust my thong properly.

I was back at the party having a drink when Bryce appeared at my side.

"No problems distracting lover boy?" he asked.

"Of course not," I scoffed. "I just got him to start talking about himself. I just kept listening and making appreciative sounds and he kept going. All men love talking about themselves. How'd you go?"

"Me? You were right. She gave me the total brushoff. Her attitude reminded me that there were reasons she became my ex, so I decided not to bother."