Heidi, Corrupted (An Ex-Wife Sharing Romance) Read online

  "In my mouth, over my breasts."

  I nodded. My cock was so hard inside my pants, throbbing away. How could I feel so differently about this girl, after months spent with her when we were both so miserable? I sat back in my chair, legs apart, not concerned if she saw how hard I was for her. Her eyes fell on my lap, and couldn't fail to make out what I was stowing there. She tried to hide her response, but didn't entirely manage it.

  "You asked him to leave?" I said.

  "I said I had get up early in the morning to go visit my parents," she said. "He was okay about it."

  "And you were okay about it? With having him leave?"

  She nodded, trying hard to keep her eyes on mine. "I wanted to come here and see you."

  My God, I wanted her. But I was torn between my powerful desire and the original purpose of my seeing her — to improve her self-confidence, to help set her up in a new relationship with a guy who would be better for her. And yet she wanted me to possess her. That didn't just mean me being some kind of agony uncle or amateur relationship counselor.

  She was mine.

  I said, "Did he have a big... prick?"

  "Big enough."

  "It felt good when he was inside you?"

  "Very good."

  I nodded. My decision was coming down in favor of enjoying her — even if it came with risks that she would believe it meant we were back together.

  "What was his name again?" As if I would forget.

  "Patrick."

  "Patrick didn't take your underwear like the other one did?"

  "No," she shook her head.

  "Show me."

  Without a hint of outrage, she parted her legs a little wider, then peeled the hem of her black and white dress up, revealing more of her thighs — and the racy black and white g-string just about covering her pussy.

  "Give them to me," I said, my throat suddenly feeling somewhat dry.

  She continued to comply with what I told her, lifting her dress further, until a narrow band of her stomach was visible above her g-string, before slipping her fingers in its waistband and lifting her hips on the couch so she could peel it down over her thighs, past her knees, her ankles, her feet.

  Holding them stretched between both hands, she peered at them for a brief moment before folding them, and handing them to me. I pressed them to my face, feeling the warm dampness on the satin material, inhaling the thick scent of female arousal. Of sex.

  I lost myself in my desire for her for a moment. When I looked up, Heidi gazed directly back at me, fire in her eyes.

  I said, "Show me what happened. Show me how it went."

  "He said he didn't want any coffee. Only me," she said. "So I took him into my room."

  I rose to my feet, held out my hands to help Heidi up from the couch, then led her through to my room.

  "We kissed, and he took my dress off," she said as my door closed behind us. I stepped up to her, put my hands up to cradle her face, and I kissed her. But I wasn't merely mimicking her previous lover. I was enjoying her for myself. I was kissing a woman who had just made love to another man.

  I could smell him on her. I could taste something different about her. I could see the faint trace of perspiration on her skin, in her hair. I could see how her lipstick had smeared as she had taken him into her mouth.

  It seemed like I ought to be disgusted with her, or that I should have forced her into the shower at once. But it was such a turn-on, seeing her as this sexual being, ripe, fertile, and taken by another man. Used for his pleasure, and for hers. Breathing her in, tasting her, my senses firing with the evidence of her sexual encounter.

  I kissed her, tenderly exploring her mouth with mine, with my lips, my tongue, and my fingers slipped under the straps of her dress, sliding them over her shoulders, then off them. Allowing the thing to slip down, and with a little assistance, fall to the floor.

  "What happened next?" I asked her, as though this was the only reason I had been kissing her, to find out what had gone on.

  She stepped back, sat on the bed, then pulled herself back, her feet up off the floor without removing her high-heeled shoes. "I lay back on the bed," she said, "and he just stood and watched for a while, and I was just... kinda touching myself..."

  I watched her sitting there, looking seductively at me, sweeping her hands over her breasts, cupping them, fondling them. She leaned back, moving one leg so that her thighs were parted, her exquisite flower on display for me. She stroked it, tracing its contours with her fingers, as though trying to sell me on it. The first time she'd done it, with Patrick, she would have had her panties on still.

  As he must have, I paused a while and appreciated the sight of her. There was something not quite right about this — it wasn't the way women would normally behave, particularly when inviting a man into their bedroom for the first time. I expected Heidi to kiss him, fumble with his clothes, pull him back into her bed for some more kissing, some rolling around on the bedsheets, ultimately taking him in her mouth or in her sex.

  This was altogether more of a performance. Her come-hither eyes, her displayed body, her intimate touching. It made me imagine that Heidi's research had progressed beyond Cosmopolitan or Glamour magazine, to the pornography so prevalent and easy to find on the web.

  "I had to pull him over to me, too," she said, scooching forward on the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress, reaching for me. She put her hands on my chest, feeling out the shape of my pectoral muscles through my thin blue shirt.

  "And then?" I asked her.

  "I pulled him onto the bed with me," she said, doing exactly that with me, beaming from ear to ear at the growing sense that she was going to get to replicate what she'd done with Patrick with me.

  I went with her onto the bed, crawling over her as she lay back, propped up on one arm, pulling me by the shirt with the other.

  "Then he was kissing me," she said. "All over."

  I kissed her sweet lips again, briefly, but then moved down the soft skin of her neck, breathing her perfume, her underlying personal smell, and the subtle scent of her lover. I kissed my way down her chest, bringing one hand up to cup her breast through her bra as I kissed my way over it, Heidi tilting her head back and moaning.

  "He kissed you down here?" I asked her.

  "Uh-huh," she moaned.

  I slipped down her bra, revealing her sweet little breasts, those pink nipples so stiff, I kissed her there, flicking my tongue around her little buds, taking them into my mouth to suck on them hungrily.

  "And he kissed you here?"

  "Uh-huh."

  Off came her bra entirely, and now she lay back on the bed, and now I kissed my way down the soft, pale flesh of her stomach, tasting the slight saltiness on her skin, breathing in that strange scent of another man as well as Heidi's own.

  "And down here?" I asked her.

  "Oh, yes."

  I kissed and licked my way gently over her mound, past that little patch of dark hair left behind during her waxing session, and then I was personally experiencing the smoothness of her skin around her pussy, marveling up close how she looked.

  The strong smell of sex made me feel a little light-headed, seriously aroused. I stroked her pussy gently with the back of my fingers, feeling her wetness, her stickiness, wondering at the redness of her pussy lips, the state of her sex after taking another man inside it.

  "He kissed you like this?" I said, and nudged my tongue against her groove, tasting her tangy juices, sucking on her lips.

  "Oh... yes... oh... please..." she moaned.

  She just lay back, arms folded behind her head, trying to look down at what I was doing, but ultimately having to tilt her head back, close her eyes and deal with the blissful feelings surging through her. I appreciated the view up her body, her flat stomach and the small but beautiful mounds of her breasts, her hard nipples, her chest rising and falling with her deep breathing and her moaning, and the way her facial expressions responded to the pleasure I was giving he
r.

  I feasted on her like I'd never done before, adoring her flavor, tickled by the curious thought that she'd only just fucked someone else. Lapping at her juices, sucking her lips into my mouth, swirling my tongue through her slippery groove, she raised her hips up as though to press herself more firmly against my mouth.

  I'm not even sure how long I went down on her. It was an age. I took my time and enjoyed every moment. Then she was crying out and laughing, shaking a little, her toes curling as she came, and I noticed a good deal more wetness for me to lap up as her orgasm struck.

  Her broad smile, her giggling, made me smile as well. "He kissed you like that?" I asked.

  "Not quite like that," she said, breathless, still smiling ear-to-ear.

  "He made you come like that?"

  "No, just you."

  "So what happened next?"

  “Oh, wait, I got it wrong,” she said. “Before all that happened, before he went down on me, I went down on him.” She seemed proud of herself, pleased that her latest attempt at oral sex had not ended things.

  “Show me.”

  "He pulled off my panties and my shoes," she said, raising her knees up under her chin so she could reach her shoes, and pull them off. "Then I had him lie on the bed..."

  She urged me down, now, onto my back, and straddled me. She opened my shirt, sweeping her hands over my exposed chest, kissing her way down until she was in position to unfasten my belt and my pants. She didn't need to pull my pants far down my thigh to release my hard cock. It sprang free before being surrounded by her fingers. Heidi looked elated at how hard I was for her.

  She licked my shaft, and slipped the tip of my cock in her mouth, gazing up at me as she sucked on me, showing me once again how incredible she could be with a little simple guidance to improve her method.

  "You sucked on him like this?" I asked her.

  "Uh-huh."

  "He must've enjoyed it."

  "Uh-huh."

  "And you enjoyed it?"

  "Not as much as this," she said, swirling her tongue around my tip, ecstatic at being allowed to play with my manhood, it seemed.

  I stroked her hair, but otherwise let her do as she pleased. Eventually, though, she withdrew, moving off me before attempting to pull my pants and my underwear off down my legs. I had to help her take them off, but then she was straddling me again and reaching to pull off my shirt, my hard cock gently brushing against her soft skin.

  "This is how it was?" I asked her, my hands gliding over her thighs, her hips, her stomach, her back, reveling in the softness of her skin.

  "Yes," she said, lifting herself up slightly before reaching behind her to take hold of my cock. She lined up my hardness, touching my tip to the slick heat of her pussy, then sank down slightly, easing my tip inside her. She was so tight, it took her a few moments to take my length inside her, easing it in, coating it in her juices. Had she been this tight when we were dating? I suppose it had been a while since we'd had sex.

  She held her breath as I filled her, her eyes widening, her mouth opening.

  "It was like this with him?" I asked her.

  She flicked her long, dark hair behind and over her shoulder, and began to move her hips, rocking gently over my hardness. "This is better," she said. "You're bigger. It feels better."

  I placed my hands on the pleasing roundness of her behind, and helped to guide her motion on me. After a while she sat up, tossing her hair back over her shoulder again, riding me harder, my hands moving to cover her breasts.

  I looked at her beaming smile, and couldn't help but smile in return. This was clearly her reward for doing whatever I asked of her. But at the same time, being able to appreciate her immediately after her liaison with another man was my twisted reward for helping her with her confidence, and get her back on the dating ladder.

  But was she really dating me again, or was this simply a friends with benefits arrangement?

  I wasn't sure I cared in that moment, as she rode me like a stallion, and quite clearly came again as she did so. Had she been this easy to orgasm before? I couldn't remember it.

  "He made you come like this?" I asked her.

  "Yes," she said, breathless. "But I was imagining... telling you about it, about how he was fucking me."

  "You were imagining how I might want you to show me?" I gave her a wry grin.

  "Something like that."

  "And then?"

  She rolled off me, onto her back, saying, "He tried going on top..." as I did likewise, only she said, "but he didn't last long."

  "He pulled out, right?"

  "Uh-huh. He told me he was close, so I stopped him," she said. "I knelt on the floor, and he sat on the bed, and I was sucking on him again..."

  "Show me."

  I moved to the edge of the bed, and Heidi jumped off the bed herself, to take up position between my knees on the floor. She took hold of my shaft in her hands, and began pumping it again, before slipping the tip into her mouth.

  I could have lasted longer, but I wanted it to be the way it had been with Patrick. I reveled in the sight of her doing this, kneeling, naked, waiting for a stranger to come in her mouth.

  "And he came just like this?" I asked, breathless myself.

  "Uh-huh."

  I let fly, and my orgasm was a strong one. I groaned as I felt the hot come welling up, jetting into her mouth, Heidi looking elated as it pumped into her, moaning as she swallowed, almost purring. She didn't quite contain all of it, some escaping to drip down her chin, onto her breasts, her stomach. I wasn't going to criticize her: it was a hot sight to behold.

  She cleaned me, gently, swirling her tongue around my tip, sucking a little as though to make sure she wasn't missing out on anything.

  "That was incredible," I said. "Patrick must have enjoyed it."

  She smiled. "I think so."

  "You want to see him again?"

  She shrugged. "I could."

  "Or?"

  "You could find me someone else."

  *

  After that, she freshened up in my en suite, and when she emerged she went to pick up her clothes. It struck me as particularly submissive that she did not make the assumption that she was staying the night with me.

  "You want to spend the night?" I asked her.

  "You want me to?"

  "Stay," I ordered her, and patted the mattress beside me.

  She smiled and approached the bed.

  "Lose the clothes," I added, and she laughed, complying so that I could run my eyes all over her bare body.

  "So you're really mine," I said.

  "I really am."

  "But you're not my wife."

  "No. Do I need to be?"

  I shook my head, and placed my hand gently on her stomach, feeling the smooth skin. "No. I think it's better this way."

  "I'm yours," she said. "That's all that matters."

  "Okay." I was stroking her mound, and her pussy, gently. "Do you hate me for what I did?" I asked her. "For ending our marriage?"

  "No," she said, quietly sighing as my fingers found her slit, one dipping slightly inside to find her wet there. "It wasn't working. Something had to happen."

  "I still want you to be with someone else. You'd be happier. Does that bother you?"

  "No. I want what you want."

  "Does it bother you that I find it... exciting... when you're with someone else? And when you come back to me afterwards?"

  "No... I... I like it, too."

  I rolled over onto my front, and ducked down between her legs. "I want to see you enjoying sex," I said, stretching apart her pussy lips with my hands, appreciating the view of her smooth flesh, her pink petals. "I want to see you enjoying other guys... I want you to know how much they want you... I want to know how much you want them..."

  She moaned as I slipped my tongue inside her and tasted her again.

  "Oh... yes... oh God..." she panted.

  I could get used to this.

  Chapter Eleven
>
  I woke up alone in the bed, Heidi gone already. I glanced across the empty half of the bed, and saw the open door to my en suite, and that the petite brunette was in there, leaning over the sink. Even this far away from the bathroom, I could tell from the dampness in the air and the slight scent of shampoo — my shampoo — that she'd taken a shower, even if she wasn't standing there with a towel around her waist.

  "You don't have a hair dryer around here, I suppose?" she asked. She looked at me, and I saw that she'd put on a touch of make-up. Make-up? For the morning after? It wasn't quite the full effect, but it was still a little startling, since I was used to a Heidi who wouldn't bother with make-up even if she attended a wedding.

  "Uh-huh," I said. "Sorry, it's all gone a bit bachelor mode around here."

  "Well, I'll survive." She shook out her long dark hair, and it wasn't too wet.

  I sighed. Last night had been intense. Now certain details were returning to mind, my blood flow was quickening a little, and things were thickening between my thighs, hidden by the bedsheets.

  "You're leaving?" I asked as she dropped the other towel, and stooped to pick up her forsaken underwear. "You could stay for breakfast, at least?"

  She smiled, delighted that I was inviting her to stay. "If you want me to," she said. "But I have to get back to practice."

  I watched her slipping her black and white g-string up past her knees, and over her thighs, I recalled how she'd looked the previous night when she came back to me. My Heidi, used. Spoiled. Corrupted. My Heidi, a naughty nymph, fresh off an incredible adventure that had ended in sex with another man.

  I wanted her again. There was just something so hot about thinking of her that way, a promiscuous devil. I wanted to pull her to me, suck her hard little nipples into my mouth, dump her onto the bed and devour that sweet hairless pussy of hers. I had the power to keep her here.

  At the same time, I knew how important it was for her to practice her cello. It was her profession these days.

  "You should practice," I nodded. She put on her matching bra, reaching behind her back to fasten the catch. I asked, "When's the next concert?"