Short, Shorter, Shortest

Mistake

I’m not quite sure why we thought it was a good idea, but at the time, we did.

Our friends, Yvonne and Brent had decided to start a family, but at six months, it became a rough pregnancy. Yvonne was limited to bed rest for fear that she’d lose the baby. Brent was doing his best to keep her comfortable and well looked after, but there was little she could do to look after him. They’d had an exceptionally active sex life up until that point and he was out of sorts from lack of nookie.

Several months previously, we’d done some soft swapping with them, where we had sex with our spouses, but in the same room. We found it very exciting, but it didn’t lead to anything more.

Anita and I were out for dinner one night and well into our second bottle of wine when we hatched our plan. It was simple. We would offer Brent one night with Anita, with Yvonne’s approval, to help him over the hump. We both felt it was something we could live with in order to help our friends, and it wouldn’t affect our marriage, since we agreed it was for them, and not for us.

I spent the night sitting with Yvonne, while Brent spent the night with Anita, in our bed. The next day, Brent was all smiles, and expressed his gratitude, over and over again. We felt great for having done our friends a good deed. Anita didn’t want to talk about it, other than to say she enjoyed it, with a helping of guilt on the side.

Our lives went on as usual, or so I thought, until a Friday night some weeks later, when Anita tearfully announced that she was leaving me to set up housekeeping with Brent. It seemed that they had been meeting surreptitiously every few days, and had fallen in love.

“I don’t know why now. I never felt this way before. I guess it’s just that he’s such an incredible lover. I’m sorry.”

I was stunned, and my ego, well… it was shattered. Incredible lover? How could she do this to me? Moreover, how could Brent do this to Yvonne, just before she was about to give birth to their child? With both of us in tears, she left.

I went to see Yvonne, and, as expected, she was devastated. We tried to console each other, and I helped out until her mother arrived to take care of her.

I moped around the house for a week, and then made a conscious decision to move on. I’ve always believed that things happen for a reason, and that one needs to look at them as opportunities, rather than failures. I found a lawyer in the phone book, and spoke with her. She thought a separation agreement would be a good idea, so I let Anita know that she should get a lawyer, too.

Several friends tried to set me up, but most of the dates were disasters. Later, a few worked out OK, but it was obvious that most of the ladies I met were husband hunting.

Then, on a whim, I asked Emily to take in a movie with me. She worked for one of my customers, and was a pretty woman, but quiet and very shy. We hit it off well, and I quickly found that under her demure exterior, lived a riotously funny and charming individual. She was a natural wit, and to top it off, she was a wild woman in bed. Name a position, she’d try it. Upside down, swinging from the chandelier, OK. Oral and anal — no problem. My self esteem was restored. She was a few years older than I, but it made no difference. After dating for a month, I suggested that she move in with me.

Three weeks later, Yvonne gave birth to a baby boy, and she named him Alexander William – Alex, after her late grandfather. He was perfect.

Emily and I had made it a habit to lounge in bed on Sunday mornings. Sex, coffee, sex, the morning paper, sex, and then some sex. A couple of Sundays after Alex was born, there was a knock at the door. I was up, getting coffee, in my robe. It was Anita. I invited her in.

“Coffee?”

“Sure.” long pause… “Can we talk, Rob?”

Brent had been to visit Yvonne and the babe, and his conscience had kicked him in the head. He wanted to be Alex’s daddy, and Yvonne took him back — but on a very short leash. Anita wanted to reconcile and move home.

Talk about timing… Two seconds after the plea was made, Emily called from the bedroom, “Who was at the door, lover?”

When she stuck her face into the kitchen, she was dressed only in one of my white shirts, with tousled hair and beestung lips, swollen from too much kissing. In short, she was sex personified.

Anita’s face dropped. “I’m sorry I’ve bothered you. I better go.”

Almost a year passed before the divorce was final. Emily and I married in a small ceremony shortly afterwards. Anita eventually hooked up with a guy – a nice guy, I’m told. I hope it works out for her.

*

Oops!

“How could you?? You bastard!

Huh? What the fuck is she talking about? I must look as clued out as I feel when she points at my pecker.

Oh fuck! I’m screwed… My dickhead has a layer of tissue glued to it.

I’m currently unemployed, and to kill time, I’ve been spending my afternoons banging Lisa, the neighbor’s wife. She’s a hot brunette with big knockers and long, sleek thighs. She’s made for humping.

After plowing her hairy furrow and dumping a big load in her, I’d had to rush to get dressed after her hubby phoned to say he was sick and was coming home. I’d swabbed the juice off my dick with a Kleenex and jumped into my clothes, and was out the back door and over the fence in a flash.

I never gave it any thought, but we all know that pussy juice and cum combine to form a bonding agent that’s guaranteed to make tissue a permanent addition to your private parts, at least until you wash it off.

I’d just taken off my pants and was preparing to jump in the shower, when Jamie came into the bathroom to pee. That’s when she saw it.

I had to confess. There was no other plausible explanation, and she knew it. I’ll be doing without for the foreseeable future, and my neighbor has threatened to raise my voice several octaves.

*

Sweet

I looked up at her face from my vantage point between her thighs. She was locked in a kind of rigor, holding her breath as I dragged my tongue across her clitoris. With a furious shudder, she came, and it was a climax like none that I’d ever seen. Great wracking sobs shook her body, and left her gasping.

I was amazed. Five years ago, I’d hated the spoiled eighteen year old brat. Her father doted on her. The situation was typical. He was a single parent, with no back-up from her mother. Mom, and her hormones, had run off with a big dicked young guy she’d met at the gym.

Now, the former brat, my cousin, was as sweet as pie, as she lay spread open to me as I wallowed in her sugary juices and strummed my own engorged clit.