The Perfect Life
However, the more time I spent with him, the more the desire grew and the deeper our connection entwined, but it was evident Oliver wasn’t going to make the first move. So it was up to me, although I hadn’t the first clue on how to go about letting someone know I was interested in having an affair with them. I mean, it wasn’t like I could bust out at work one day, “Can you please pass me those reports? Oh, and hey, after that, would you like to make out?” Uh . . . no.
When I discovered the orange-and-black leaflet on the same day Colin had told me he’d be chaperoning a youth football overnight lock-in on Halloween night, I took it as a sign that it was time to act. And act I had, which was precisely what led me to that exact moment, where I stood in the middle of a bustling jazz bar, dressed in a miniscule dress with vines wrapped around my limbs and a glittery mask covering my face, waiting for a man who was not my husband to take me to his bed and show me how much more there was.
“I will love you,
not starting with
your skin or
your organs or
your bones:
I will love madly first,
your naked soul.”
–Christopher Poindexter
Oliver
NEITHER OF US said a single word during the short ten minute walk in the chilly October night from the club to my apartment building, though she clung to my hand through our interlaced fingers like she was afraid I’d change my mind before we got there. But that wasn’t even close to the path my thoughts were headed down. No, I was all-fucking-in the second I realized she’d come to Riff’s . . . for me. It said everything I needed to know about the way she felt, and integrity and morals be damned. I figured we’d deal with the other shit later. And by shit, I was well aware it was going to be a whole fuck-load of crazy-ass shit, but I could no longer deny myself the one thing I wanted more than anything else in my life. Her.
The overwhelming hunger inside me intensified with every step I took, suppressing my nerves and inhibitions, and by the time I found my keys with trembling fingers and swung the door open, I was a man possessed. I couldn’t wait another second to touch her, to feel her, and to please her until she screamed my name.
Two steps into the foyer, I had her coat off and her back against the textured sheetrock as my mouth crashed down on hers in a passionate, almost frantic kiss. I traced her lips with my tongue, and she responded immediately by parting them and granting me full access to explore her sweet, sweet mouth. I soon realized the memory of our first kiss that I’d jacked off to on countless occasions didn’t hold a flame to the raw beauty of experiencing it firsthand. Like everything else Monroe Cassidy did, she was undeniably exceptional at kissing, making it seem like the way our tongues effortlessly stroked and caressed each other was a product of years and years of practice.
Our agitated fingers clawed at the fabric of our costumes as we stayed locked at the lips, neither of us wanting to break contact quite yet, despite the difficulty it made in stripping off our clothes. She found the zipper at the base of my neck and dragged it down my spine with lightning fast speed, helping me peel my chest and arms out of the bulky, neoprene-like bodysuit as I nipped gently along her swollen bottom lip. My hands skimmed up her ribcage and over the swell of her breasts, only tangling in the foliage sewn into and around her costume once—which I considered a feat in and of itself until I reached her smooth, milky white skin that was dusted in glitter. The combination of my feral rumbles and her tiny little moans and whimpers echoed off the tile floor in the small entryway, arousing my already over-stimulated senses even more than they were. My cock was harder than I’d ever thought possible, and I was quickly losing control.
“Damn, baby,” I swore as I ripped my mouth from hers and took a step back, gasping for breath. It was too much at once. My body was a livewire ready to detonate. “Unless you want me to make a mess of this costume I rented and be forced to pay some outrageous dry cleaning bill, then I gotta take a minute to cool down. Plus, I want you in my bed, where I can take care of you the way you deserve, not like a heathen against a wall.” Leaning in, I pressed my lips to the corner of her mouth and murmured, “Follow me to the Bat Cave, where all the Bat Magic happens.”
“God, you’re a goofball sometimes,” she chuckled as she kissed me back and grabbed my hand, allowing me to lead the way.
My chest swelled with pure fucking happiness as I guided her through the apartment that she knew as well as I did to my bedroom, knowing that whatever happened afterward, whatever penance I had to pay for my wrongdoing, it would be worth every damn minute and more. Because I had not just fallen in love with Monroe’s selfless heart, intelligent mind, and gorgeous face and body, I worshipped her soul—the very essence of her being. She was it for me. No one before and no one after would ever compare. And all I could do was treasure the time I was blessed with her, and whatever would happen in the future would happen. Good or bad, I’d deal with the consequences when I had to, but for that moment in time, I just said, “Fuck it,” and took her as mine, because in my heart of hearts, I truly believed she was.
As soon as we were inside the spacious master bedroom, lit only by the street lamp outside the blinds, she began tugging at my jumpsuit again, trying to work it down over my hips, eager to pick up where we’d left off. Grabbing her hands, I moved them down to her sides and shook my head. With my hand under her chin, I lifted her gaze away from my half-dressed body and up to meet mine—though, I must admit I appreciated the way she was staring at my abs and licking her lips. But right then, there was something I needed to do before we went any further.
“You make the fucking sexiest Poison Ivy I’ve ever seen,” I told her while my thumb stroked back and forth across her jawline. “I love the cute, little, pretending-to-be-appalled face you make when I call you Peaches,” I continued as I bent down and softly kissed her lips. “And you’ll always be my Rizzo,” I confessed, lifting my fingers to the base of her mask. When she didn’t say or do anything to stop me, I slid the mask over her face, tugging the wig off in the process and tossing them both on the floor. Then, removing my own headpiece, I chucked it on top of the pile, her eager emerald gaze never leaving mine. “But when we do this, I want it to be us. Monroe and Oliver. Not pretending to be anybody else except who we are. Naked to the core.”
Cupping the sides of her face, I lowered my forehead to hers and gave her one last chance to back out. “You tell me now, Monroe, ‘cause once I’m in, I’m in until you say I’m out. This isn’t a game to me. I know we can’t tell the future and we’ve got some major obstacles ahead of us, but I can’t do this, and then the next time I see you, pretend it didn’t happen. I understand there are discretions that will need to be made, and for you, I’m willing to make them, but once you and I become a we, whenever it’s just the two of us together, we’re most definitely gonna act like a we.” My hands slid up the back of her neck into her hairline, sifting through her blonde tresses that had been tucked up under the wig, then anchoring the back of her head so that we were nose-to-nose. “You good with that?”
“Yeah,” she agreed on an exhale, nodding her head so that her hair pulled taut in my grasp. “I’m good with that. But you’re gonna have to be patient with me. I’ve never done anything like this before. I may suck at being a we.”
Quickly deciding it wasn’t the best time to bring up the fact she was indeed married, I pushed the thought out of my mind and smiled warmly down at her. “That’s the great thing about us, Monroe. As long as you give me you and I give you me, the we just comes naturally.”
Her eyes flashed with what looked like hope and exhilaration. “I’m all yours, Oliver,” she whispered, lifting up on her tiptoes to press her lips to mine. “Just promise you’ll be careful with me.”
Her words pierced through my chest, triggering something inside me that I wasn’t quite familiar with. Even though I didn’t know the horrid details of what happened in her childhood, I knew enough to know that I wanted to take
care of her and pleasure her in every way possible, replacing every bad memory she had with at least ten good ones. More than I wanted to take my next breath, I wanted to show her how she deserved to be worshipped like the goddess she was.
And she was giving me that chance.
“I promise you,” I said then sealed my words with a kiss.
Then, with the most tender of touches and a string of reassuring words murmured against the delicate flesh of her neck and throat, I slowly removed her dress and unwound the vines from her arms and legs, my mouth sweeping over where the foliage had left her skin pink and irritated. Left only in a black strapless bra, a matching thong, and clover green heels that matched the exact shade of her wanton gaze, I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to the king-sized bed, laying her on her back in the middle of the mattress with her head propped up with several pillows. Hastily grabbing one of the few random condoms I’d thrown inside the drawer of the nightstand when I’d first moved in, I flung it onto the foot of the bed so it’d be easily accessible when I needed it later.
Sensing my need to control the situation so I didn’t end up in the same wild frenzy I’d slipped into when we’d first arrived at the apartment, Monroe allowed me to move at a deliberate pace, never once getting impatient or questioning my tactics. I shed the rest of my costume then joined her on the bed in just my boxer briefs that were doing a poor job of containing my throbbing shaft.
“Holy shit!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide as saucers as she stared straight at my package. “That’s, uh . . . wow. Really?”
With a low chuckle, I bent down and rewarded with her a sweet kiss for the direct boost to the ego. I’d never been sure how my dick compared to the average guy, but I liked to believe I was blessed in the hardware department. I’d definitely never had any complaints, though I’d never had quite the reaction Monroe had either. Again, even though Colin was the last thing I wanted to think about while I was about to make love to his wife, the obvious question of ‘How large—or small, rather—was he?’ ran through my mind. Not that I cared about what another guy’s cock looked like . . . it was just that it made me feel good knowing I had something bigger than Mr. All-American himself. He may have had a bigger house, car, bank account, and 401K, but Iron Chef Dick reigned supreme in the Bedroom Stadium.
“I’ll make sure you’re ready, beautiful girl. You just need to lie back and let me take care of you. I promised you I’d be careful, and I meant it,” I reassured her while I ran the tip of my nose up and down her neck, inhaling the heady combination of citrus, vanilla, and a scent that was uniquely Monroe’s.
“Okay, Ollie, I trust you,” she agreed softly as she tugged on the elastic band in my hair, freeing the unruly locks for her fingers to tangle in. Then with the shyness that I expected from Monroe, she peered up at me with her big green eyes and slowly pushed down my boxers, springing my dick free of its confines. “Please make love to me. I want to be yours.”
God, she had no idea how much I wanted that too. In every possible way.
I shifted my body so I was hovering over her without crushing her with my weight, and then began a synchronized exploration of her form using a combination of my mouth and hands, starting at her shoulders and gradually working my way lower. With open-mouthed kisses, sensual swipes of my tongue, and fingertip caresses meant to simultaneously soothe and stimulate, I reached the swell of her breast overflowing atop the sexy but unnecessary bra. My dexterous fingers made quick work of the three-pronged clasp at her spine, and as the delicate fabric fell away from her body, my lips set out to conquer one exposed dusty peak, while an eager hand claimed the other.
Monroe released a guttural moan and arched her back up off the mattress when I drew her hardened nipple in between my teeth, laving the sensitive bud with my tongue. Her fingers that had been leisurely sifting through my hair, curled and pulled as she held my head close to her chest. “Yes, that . . . that feels so good,” she panted as I took turns sucking on and playing with her perfect tits.
Once I was sure I had memorized the taste and the feel of her chest, I resumed my trek downward, kissing my way down the center of her lean torso until I hit lacy material once again. With the tip of my tongue, I followed along the waistband of her thong, over to one hip, then across to the other before my mouth ended up back dead center, mere inches away from her sweet center that I yearned to touch and taste.
Hooking both thumbs inside the thin swatch of fabric, I stopped before I went any further and peered up at her to ensure she wanted me to keep going. Her glossed-over eyes met mine and the right corner of her mouth quirked up. “Don’t stop now, silly. You were just getting to the good part,” she teased.
I chuckled and shook my head, swooshing her panties down over her hips, knees, and feet, and then flung them onto the messy floor with our other clothes. “Oh, baby doll,” I ran my tongue across my bottom lip as I settled myself between her legs, “you have no idea just how good it’s gonna get.”
Surprising me, she abruptly sat up and grabbed my head, pulling me to her as she stole my breath away with a demanding, feverish kiss. “Show me,” she begged against my mouth, lightly sucking on my bottom lip. “Show me everything. I want to know what more is, Oliver. I want your more.”
I was too far entrenched in the moment to understand what she was really saying, but all I knew was I wanted to give it to her. All of it. The good. The more. Whatever she wanted or needed. I’d make it happen.
“Lay down, beautiful, and I’ll give you everything I’ve got and more.” I gently coaxed her back to where she’d been, comfortably supported by the pillows so she could relax but still watch everything I was doing to her.
My eyes roamed over every inch of her stunning body splayed out before me on the bed before I gently gripped the inside of her knees and pushed them apart. Watching her legs spread open bit-by-bit directly in front of me may have been the most erotic thing I’d ever witnessed, and as I lowered myself onto my stomach and got my first glimpse at her pink glistening folds, I couldn’t help but thrust my hips a few times against the mattress, my aching shaft desperate for friction.
With a feather-soft touch, I edged my fingers up the inseam of her thigh until they were met with her slick arousal. Gliding my fingertips through the sweet stickiness, I parted her swollen lower lips and dipped my face down to her sizzling core, swiping my tongue from her tight slit up to the treasured bundle of nerves that I couldn’t wait to torment.
“Oh my gawd,” she slurred, bucking her hips up when I pulled my mouth away. “Do that again. That’s much better than good.”
I smiled victoriously to myself as I got ready to repeat the action, but with the second pass of my tongue over her clit, I latched my lips around the pebbled nub and sucked gently. Again, her hips lifted up off the bed, though this time, I allowed her to grind her smooth mound against my face, reveling in the intoxicating smell of her desire, the honeyed taste of her juices, and the sounds of her wanton whimpers.
As my mouth still methodically worked her button, my nimble fingers worked their Bat Magic over, around, and inside of her wet heat, prepping her. Within just a few minutes of my teasing and taunting, Monroe fisted the sheets in her closed hands and allowed her knees to fall completely open to the sides, fully surrendering to the euphoric sensations that threatened to claim her release. Her chest heaved as she inhaled and exhaled rapid, shallow breaths, and when I latched onto her clit one final time as I slipped two fingers knuckle-deep inside of her, she unraveled beneath me in a magnificent fashion.
“Oh my God, Oliver!” she shouted as her thin frame shamelessly writhed and wriggled in ecstasy. “Please don’t stop! God, please don’t ever stop!”
Watching her come undone nearly sent me over the edge along with her, and suddenly, I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to know what it would feel like to be buried inside her, and I had to know right fucking then.
Hastily, I pushed myself up to an upright kneeling position, still situated b
etween her legs, and reached for the small foil packet on the bed. The sound of the package ripping garnered her post-climactic attention, and as her heavy-lidded eyes focused in on me rolling the latex over my shaft, she twisted her lips with curiosity. “I’m still not sure it’s gonna fit,” she half-laughed as she slowly reached her hand out to wrap her fingers around me.
“Do you want to guide it in? That way you can control how fast we go,” I offered with my focus fixed on her dainty fingers as they began moving up and down my steeled length. Though she hadn’t confirmed it, I felt confident that she had some sort of abuse in her past, and I was careful not to push or intimidate her in any way.
She pressed her lips together and nodded then wasted no time tugging me toward her, rubbing my head all through her folds and over her clit, coating it with her essence. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to explode right then and there, but somehow I managed to restrain myself. After about a minute, her wrist stilled as she lined the tip of my cock up at her slick entrance. Then, ever-so-slowly, she worked my shaft inside the incredibly tight walls of her contracting pussy, connecting us in the most intimate way possible.
It took a while to allow her body to adjust to my thickness before she was comfortable enough for me to start stroking in and out of her, but I didn’t mind one bit as I covered her face and neck with encouraging and affectionate kisses. Too absorbed in the emotional bond we were imprinting onto each other’s soul, I didn’t consider how it should’ve seemed a bit odd for a woman who’d been married for over three years to still experience discomfort during sex, no matter what size her husband’s junk was. But after I worshipped her body until the point I could no longer hold off my own release, I exploded with an intensity like I’d never before experienced, completely surrounded in her cozy warmth. Her. Me. Us.