Valentine’s Day Slut
By Aimee Seoul
Copyright Aimee Seoul 2012
Published by Red Heels Press at Smashwords
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“Are you reading another one of those cheating wife books?” I asked my husband. I shook my head and rolled my eyes teasingly. I didn’t mind, but I just couldn’t understand why the idea of me cheating on him turned Fred on so much.
“Yeah, so?” he said looking over his reading glasses at me. Fred was forty-six and a better than average looking guy. He was tall, thin and athletic with dark hair that was barely beginning to thin in back. He was clean-shaven and had only recently gotten the reading glasses. He didn’t like them, but I thought they made him look sexy.
“Nothing, I just don’t get it is all,” I answered closed my romance novel and then asked, “Do you really want me to sleep with another man?”
“We’ve been over this a thousand times. Yeah, I do. I think it would be hot. I’d love to see you get fucked by another guy,” Fred answered.
“Well, I don’t get it,” I said and started reading again but Fred wasn’t done.
“I don’t get why you like those romance books. It’s stupid and contrived, but you still want me to be all romantic like in those stories,” he said. He was right. I mean I liked getting fucked good and hard, but sometimes I wanted to soft and slow, with candles and incense and all that. Yeah, it was dumb but it got me hot. Slow and soft always seemed to turn into fast and hard, however.
“Fair enough, Fred. So what are you saying? I should fuck some other guy to turn you on so you will fuck me even better?” I asked.
“Exactly! Every time I turn down the lights, light a few candles and get all romantic, you end up getting all crazy and fucking me like a porn star. Seeing you with another man would have the same effect on me. How bad could it be? You’d get two men in one night. It’s not like I’m asking you do something horrible, Rebecca.”
He had a point. It’s not as if I didn’t like men. I liked looking at them and I even fantasized about other men sometimes. Maybe he had a point. Then a thought occurred to me. What if I could get a guy like in my romance novels? Broad chested, sexy and, of course, he had to be hung like a horse. That would be nice. I mean I thought Fred was sexy, but those guys…whew!
“You’d really go through with it?” I asked.
“Yes! In a heartbeat,” Fred answered.
“Hmm. We’ll see,” I said and began reading again. My answer frustrated Fred, I could tell. He finally began to ask me what that meant, but I cut him short with, “We’ll see, Fred.”
I was already plotting in my head. I had an idea. I wanted it to be a surprise. It was three weeks until Valentine’s Day and I was going to get a date. If Fred wanted me to fuck another guy, so be it. But I was going to pick out the guy!
<<>>
Valentine’s Day arrived. I had everything ready to go. I had a guy picked out, new sexy dress and the bedroom was all candles and incense. Fred had no idea. I’d found the other man through a friend. I made up some story I was on the lookout for a single guy for another single friend of mine and I was introduced to Jack.
He was perfect. Tall, broad and bas-ass! His head was shaven and he wore a long wiry blonde goatee. He had tattoos on both arms and one across his back. However, he was handsome too. Chiseled jaw and sharp, piercing blue eyes. So different from my husband with his thin build and his penchant for sweater vests.
I was in a cute little red dress and matching pumps. No panties, no pantyhose, no bra. I had my pussy waxed a few days earlier so it was baby smooth. I had my and I’d taken off work to get the bedroom and myself ready. I’d told Jack what this was all about and he was game. He seemed eager to fuck me and even more excited to do it in front of my husband. That got me excited too. I was nervous, but I had to admit this was turning me on. I hate it when Fred is right.
Fred got home about five-thirty. We’d made reservation for dinner the previous weekend to celebrate Valentine’s Day so he wasn’t expecting anything special. He’d sent me a little flower arrangement, but I bought myself a huge arrangement, a box of chocolates, all supposedly from Jack. Fred’s little gift looked tiny by comparison.
Fred wandered in from the garage and shouted, “Happy Valentine’s Day!”
He found me in the living room, his flowers on the coffee table next to Jack’s and me in that skimpy dress. “Happy Valentine’s Day, honey!” I replied and stood to show him my dress. It barely came to mid-thigh and hugged every curve. My long dark hair was styled and I had on sexy red lipstick.
“Whoa! I thought we already celebrated Valentine’s Day, Rebecca,” Fred observed.
“We did, but I’m not done,” I teased. Fred looked past me and saw the flowers.
“I see you got my flowers. Who are those from? Candy too. Yum!” Fred observed.
“A friend,” I answered cryptically and Fred looked perplexed. Right on cue I heard Jack’s Harley pull up outside. I walked over to meet him at the door. Fred just watched as I waited for a moment and then opened the door for Jack. He was in a black button down, black jeans with boots and looked dashing. I let him in and he took me in his arms and kissed me.
I had asked him to do it, but it was still surprising and exciting. I heard Fred gasp behind me. Jack let me go, I thanked him for the flowers and chocolates, even though I bought them, and I turned to Fred and said, “This is Jack. Jack this is my husband, Fred.” They nodded at one another and Fred looked like he was going to pass out. I couldn’t help but giggle.