Husband Sit (Husband #1) (7 page)

He
nodded, looking as if he wasn’t quite sure he could believe what he was seeing.
But, despite the fact that I’d been mentally undressing him all through dinner,
watching the way his lips moved, imagining his tongue inside my mouth again, I
walked away. And I did what I’d said I would. I had a shower and went to bed.

But
I didn’t read. I lay on top of the sheets in my pink pajamas telling myself I
was a house sitter. This wasn’t a husband sitting job. I needed to revert—to
pretend Finn was not a meal I was planning to devour. He was a faithful husband
who was simply allowing me to be there because it made his slut wife happy to
torment him in various ways. Maybe he was a masochist.

In
any case, I tried to talk myself into obedience, but the thought of Katinka
stirred up rebellion. Why did she get to have this gorgeous man in this
gorgeous house
and
a lover on the side? It was outrageous.

I
didn’t want her life. It was sordid. (listen to me—pot calling the kettle
black), but I also didn’t want to tamely play along with their weird infidelity
tango, even if the smart thing would be to keep my head down and get through my
month’s contract. Bottom line, I didn’t see why Katinka should get away with
having everything and leaving Finn with… torment. This wasn’t about infidelity;
it was about equality. If she wanted an ‘open marriage’ she should damn well
let him have lovers as well.

That
brought me neatly back to the fact that he’d admitted he was fantasizing about
me all the time, and was having trouble resisting my
sexual allure
.

Which
was totally hot!

Just
thinking about that made me shed my good intentions along with my pajamas.
Lying naked on the bed gave me far more leeway to fantasize about him and to
get all hot and sticky with some leisurely masturbation which I didn’t keep to
myself. I simply
couldn’t help
squealing “Oh god!” when I hit the
crescendo, no doubt echoing my orgasmic bliss around the silent house.

I
was definitely a
naughty girl
, and I resolved to be better tomorrow—to
most definitely not torment Finn any further with inadvertent bikini wearing,
bending over, cleavage or any other arousal techniques. Because that would be
cruel, even if it did feed my fledgling seductress ego.

I
absolutely must not.

So, you
can imagine how that went. One day fell into another with me doing secretarial
work during the day and chatting to Brittany each lunchtime—which was morning
for her. Then Finn would come home and I’d revel in the way his eyes slid over
me hotly from the moment he walked in the door. I simply could not get up early
enough—I’m sure he was out the door by five am. So I enjoyed his covert
attention over dinner when he thought I wasn’t watching, and then later as we
sat in front of the television. It didn’t matter what we were watching, Finn
positioned himself in the lounge-room so he could pretend to be looking at the
screen while he scoped me out.

I
wanted to call him on it, to say
For fucks sake, just do me!
But the
sexual tension was addictive. I’d never felt this desired before, but I’d also
never been with a man who was so gentle and so smart. Our dinner conversations
were a heady mix of world politics, cricket—which we both loved—and sci fi
nerdery. In sharp contrast, I’d been lucky to get a conversation about the
weather out of Doug, so this new intellectual stimulation was as sexy as hell
to me, especially when I could see Finn mentally undressing me the whole time.

I
told myself I wasn’t doing anything to seduce him. He was doing it all himself.
I even resisted provocative attire, but in shorts and a tank top, when I was
sleepily sprawled out on the lounge, my legs just… fell open, as they did on
the fifth night. Wine and self-satisfaction made me complacent and I dozed off,
only to be roused by Finn putting a blanket over me.

I
woke up groggy and pushed it off. “S’fine,” I mumbled. “I’ll go to bed.”

“Okay.”

He
stepped back and I lurched up off the lounge, too quickly, and ended up falling
into him with an undignified
“Oof!”
It took me a couple of seconds to
work out that my foot had gone to sleep. Then I pulled myself up on him and
said through my fallen-down hair, “I don’t think… I can’t walk.”

He
made a sound, like a low growl that I felt through his chest. Then he pulled me
hard against him. Suddenly my breasts were crushed against his chest and his
lips found mine, startling me out of my dozy state into sudden dizzying arousal.
His mouth was hot and demanding, and when his tongue slid into contact with
mine, my nipples fizzed into life like sparklers. One of his large hands slid
across my shoulders while the other ran down my back to press me hard against
his erection. Which felt big.

All
I could think was I’d been planning to sit back down.

But
this was better.

This
was heaven.

And
amid the seductive heat of his body against mine and the deliciousness of his
tongue in my mouth, tasting of wine and sin, I had no room for anything other
than throbbing pleasure and hoping this would never stop.

Miraculously,
the morals questions were out of my hands. He was the married one and he had to
decide whether he wanted to be unfaithful. Clearly he did, so when he pushed me
back onto the lounge and started kissing down my neck to my exposed cleavage,
you’d better believe I wasn’t resisting.

I
managed to breathe, “Is this where you’ve been fantasizing about fucking me?”

He
paused in kissing his way across my cleavage and whispered against my skin, “I
should have taken you that first time, in your bed after you—”

“Masturbated.”

He
nodded, his breath hot against my skin, making my nipples tighten so much they
hurt.

I
sucked in an unsteady breath. “Do you want to go there?”

He
didn’t say anything, just stood and pulled me up into his arms, walking me to
my room and lowering me to stand beside the bed. I reached for the bottom of my
tank top but he pulled it out of my hands, sliding it over my head and then
somehow dispensing with the rest of my clothes as he kissed me. Whether I was
still groggy from sleep or simply drugged with the throb of arousal that echoed
low in my body, I barely noticed.

At
last I pulled back from the kiss and said, “Let’s try a full recreation.” And
with only the light from the hallway on us, I crawled onto the bed on my hands
and knees and wiggled my ass.

He
stripped off his clothes beside me in the shadows so I couldn’t see much. All I
could hear was the zipper and then rustles as his clothes hit the floor, but I
contented myself with the fact that we had more than three weeks in front of
us. Plenty of time for exploration.

I
nodded at the bedside table. “The cream is there if you want to—”

“I
do.”

He
retrieved the bottle and then the bed dipped before his hands slid possessively
onto my ass. I wanted to groan in advance of the pleasure I knew was coming,
but I somehow managed to hold that in.

His
voice was deep and low as he said, “I’ve been fantasizing about this. A lot.”

“So
cream
me,” I taunted, and he did. One hand lathered my ass while the
other slid between my legs, making my breath catch high in my throat. I was so
excited already I was damp there, and his long fingers sliding across that hot,
needy flesh felt like an electric shock of pleasure. I actually shuddered, and
not only did those tremors of arousal almost melt me onto the bed, I couldn’t
get over how sexy it was having him touching me so intimately while I couldn’t
see him. “Whatever happens,” I said, “Don’t stop doing that.”

“I’m
not going to stop,” he said firmly, as if he was trying to convince himself.

“Good.
Don’t think with your big brain.”

“I’m
not.” The hand with the cream slid off my ass and ran across my waist and then
around to cup a breast and roll the sensitive nipples between his slippery
fingers. I suddenly wanted his hard cock inside me.

“I’m
missing something,” I said and wiggled my ass again.

“Not
yet.”

I
secretly like being bossed around, so I let him take over, resting my forehead
on the pillow as his clever fingers stroked my clitoris until it was quivering
with delight. All I could do was pant as the clutching sensations spread
tingles of pleasure around my loins and even across my lower back where he
leant against me. Not to mention the exquisite sting of my nipples being softly
pinched.

In
under a minute I lost track of my body and I barely had time to groan, “Oh. My.
God…
” before Finn’s masterful manipulations resulted in an orgasm like a
rolling wave of pleasure smashing down. For a dislocated second I imagined his
fingers were inside my body, pressing down hard like a pianist hitting some
bizarre pleasure crescendo. But when my senses returned enough to find reality
again, I realized he was holding my mound with a finger pressed firmly against
my clit, exactly the way I liked it when I came. As if he’d memorized that from
watching me masturbate.

I
shouldn’t have been emotional at all, but for some reason that thoughtfulness
hit me high in the chest and I couldn’t stop myself wondering what it would
have been like to meet Finn ten years ago, instead of Doug—someone who turned
me on just by looking at me. I might have been his wife instead of Katinka, and
the thought that I could spend a lifetime with a man like that made my chest
ache.

Which
was
dangerous
.

Husband
sitting was supposed to be about physical involvement only. When I’d first come
up with the idea, I hadn’t even imagined that I’d like the husbands I’d be
fucking—cheating bastards—let alone that I’d grow fond of them. I certainly
hadn’t factored on being with someone like Finn. He was a keeper, yet for some
reason his wife was pushing him away. Did she want him to divorce her for some
financial reason?

And
was that any of my business?

Jesus,
get your head together, girl. You’re turning this into a melodrama.

I
swallowed a few times to wet my throat. Then I lifted my head and turned it to
say, “Not sure you need cunnilingus skills when you can do that with your
fingers.”

His
straightened and gripped my hips with both hands. “If that was a compliment,
I’ll take it.”

“Your
turn.”

I
didn’t want my orgasm to derail him, because I was looking forward to a good
dogging. But he worried me by being silent for a few seconds.

At
last he said, “I don’t...I didn’t bring any protection.”

“Top
drawer.” I pointed. He reached past me and opened it, helping himself to one of
the many condom packets Katinka had filled it with. I heard ripping and
fumbling, then he was back behind me and there was a moment of poking before
the hardest cock I’ve
ever
felt slid into me. It was like a piece of
granite, and if I hadn’t felt his thighs against mine when he pressed deep into
me, I would have sworn it was a dildo.

“That’s
impressive,” I said, my eyes wide open now, blinking at the sensation of
fullness. If not for the slickness of my earlier orgasm, it would have been a
challenge to accommodate him. “For a lean guy, you certainly hide a lot in your
pants.”

His
hands tightened against my hips and I heard him swallow before he said, “Could
you pause the running commentary for a minute?”

I
resisted the temptation to ask him if that’s all it would take, and instead
said, “Sure.” If this was his first infidelity, I didn’t want to spoil it for
him.

So
I put my forehead back on the pillow and waited with my ass in the air, for
what seemed like at least one minute, if not two. Then his grip tightened and
he started to move, in and out, and
wow
. The stretching was doing
exciting things to all the nerves down there that had so recently exploded in
ecstasy. It was hard not to shudder when he pushed in deep, and impossible to
stop myself moaning as the rhythm got faster.

I
was determined not to talk, but I couldn’t stop myself in the end, because his
clever fingers slid across my clit again and I started moaning in earnest,
interspersing it with “Jesus,” and “God, don’t stop that!” as my hips jerked
against his. All the delightful sensations I’d only just experienced came back
in a clutching bundle of heat and pleasure, zigzagging across my body and
pooling where he was in contact with me.

I
could feel the roar building inside me again, only this time when it hit, it
was
fierce,
and he was pounding into me and I was scrabbling bunches of
sheet into my fingers and squealing as I pushed back at him, right on the
plateau, skating along a shuddering orgasm that went on and on—one trembling
peak after another until finally his hand came off my clitoris and he grabbed
my hips in both hands and slammed into me hard, groaning as if he was dragging
the climax out of his balls and up through his chest to moan out of his mouth—deep
and long and ending on a triumphant grunt.