Cheater Page 4

  8

  THE first time he worked in the next-door apartment was uneventful. The cat cut him a wide berth, not even coming out when he poured more kibble into its bowl, but by the second day it had changed its mind. After meeting him at the door, it followed him to the couch and settled down on one of the cushions to groom itself. Josh was glad for the company. He didn’t realize how much he missed the office small-talk until he went without it for an extended stretch. Surveillance, he was learning, was lonely work.

  It was also boring. Emily continued to be frustratingly conventional in her habits. She did some yoga after Josh left, then showered and brushed her teeth before spending a few minutes straightening up around the apartment. Then, for the bulk of the day, she was supposed to be working on her writing. A few times she had managed to nail down a freelance contract for this online magazine or that, but she was in the middle of a long dry patch and so was allegedly working on a couple book projects. He didn’t doubt that the books existed, at least in theory, but he was learning that “working on the book” for Emily meant hanging around, staring off into space, and occasionally poking at her keyboard for a few minutes before jumping up and running off to kill time on errands.

  He was starting to think that he should call the project off and just get started on the divorce proceedings when things got more interesting. On the living room camera he saw Emily get a text. She stared at the screen for a while before putting the phone down without answering it. The phone buzzed again, and Josh opened the spyware software to see what was happening.

  The first two texts appeared on his screen. They were both from the same unidentified number, which he assumed was Miguel’s.

  hey friend

  long time, where you at

  On the camera he could see Emily staring at her phone and chewing on a fingernail. Josh was on the edge of his seat waiting for her decision. He knew that a better person—a better husband—would root for her to ignore him, but that’s not who he was. After all the boredom of the last few days, he was ready for some action.

  Finally he saw her thumbs move over the keyboard as she typed out a response.

  Hi there. How have you been?

  The reply came back almost immediately. Miguel must have been staring at his phone, waiting to see if she would reply.

  lonely without you :-(

  Josh laughed aloud at the sight of tough-guy Miguel using a frowny-face.

  come on down? i want to see you

  He watched Emily wrestle with the decision. “Do it,” he muttered. Then, he added in a too-thick caricature of Miguel’s accent: “You know you want to.” Slut.

  Her fingers typed out a response.

  Just friends, right?

  “That’s my girl,” Josh whispered.

  get down here friend , came the response, and the game was on.

  When Emily left their apartment, Josh flipped the video feed to Miguel’s apartment and turned on the microphone on her phone. He could feel his heart rate accelerating. “Let’s see what kind of friends you are,” he muttered.

  The cat gave him a funny look and jumped off the couch.

  When Emily entered Miguel’s apartment, she was clearly nervous.

  “Hi,” she said, and pulled back a little bit when he hugged her. “How have you been?”

  “Not so great,” Miguel sighed.

  “Oh no,” Emily said, slipping seamlessly from wariness to concern. “What happened?”

  Miguel waved her over the couch, and they sat down together. “Same old same old,” he said. “I thought I had a good lead on a job. It was at an auto shop, and you know I like cars, right?”

  “Sure,” Emily said, nodding enthusiastically. “You’d be great working on cars.”

  Miguel nodded. “And it was going great, we were really hitting it off, but then he asked me about my record. And I had to tell him.”

  Emily reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry, Miguel. It’s not fair! It’s not fair that they don’t give you a chance.”

  He shifted his hand until his was on top of hers. Emily glanced down but didn’t pull her hand away.

  “Not everyone believes in me the way you do, chica .”

  “They don’t see what I see,” she said firmly. “They don’t see that you’re just looking for a second chance.”

  Miguel sighed. “There’s so much stress, Emily. My neck muscles are so tight!” He pulled his shirt up over his head, revealing a thickly-muscled torso.

  Emily leaned away from him, but Josh could see her eyes fixed on his pectoral muscles. He could tell that some part of her liked what she saw.

  “I should go,” she muttered, and stood up from the couch.

  Miguel reached out and caught her hand in his. “Please, Emily. You’re my only friend. The only one who cares what happens to me. Do you think you could massage my shoulders? Just for a minute, as a friend, before you go?” Miguel asked.

  Josh chuckled and shook his head. Miguel’s intentions were so obvious, he couldn’t believe that Emily couldn’t see what he was after. Still, his wife was sometimes incredibly naive when she wanted to support someone. She could happily ignore a wealth of contrary evidence when the homeless guy under the bridge told her he was right at the point of getting his band back together and becoming a successful musician instead of a drug-addicted loser begging for loose change.

  She didn’t disappoint him. Right on cue, she said, “OK, just as friends,” and scooted up behind Miguel to start kneading his shoulder muscles with her fingers.

  Miguel lowered his head and groaned. “That’s good. Just like that. You make me feel better already.”

  Emily, encouraged, put more of her body into it. Josh felt another stab of jealousy. They had been cordial to one another lately, but it had been a very long time since she’d touched him this way. Was it so much to ask , he wondered, that she give a massage to her husband every now and then?

  “So, do you have any other prospects?” Emily asked, kneading her fingers into the point where his shoulders met his neck.

  He sighed. “Nothing good. There’s day labor unloading boxes at the truck depot, but that’s work for illegals. I’m a citizen!” he said with some heat.

  Emily nodded vigorously. “You are, and you’ll find something. You just can’t give up. Keep trying, and good things will happen.”

  Miguel flexed his shoulders and lowered his head, savoring the feeling of Emily’s hands on his skin, but of course he never intended it to be just a massage, and eventually he made his move. He reached up and took one of Emily’s hands, then pulled it forward so that she was drawn forward, up against his back. “You are my angel,” he said, and kissed her palm.

  “Miguel,” Emily said in a warning tone. Josh noticed that her legs were spread so that his hips were between her thighs.

  “Hush, chica ,” he said, kissing her palm again. “We don’t need to talk anymore. We understand each other.” He twisted around, still holding her arm at the wrist, and kissed her neck.

  “Miguel,” Emily protested, “we’re just friends, remember?”

  “You are a good friend, Emily,” Miguel murmured, kissing the curve of her jaw. “And friends give each other what they want.” He leaned into her, pushing her back until she was lying against the arm of the couch.

  “Miguel, I’m married,” Emily protested, looking up at Miguel with a pleading look as he loomed over her.

  “I know,” he said, and then he kissed her.

  Emily twisted her mouth away. “You promised!”

  “I lied,” he chuckled. “That’s what lovers do.”

  He kissed her again, harder this time. Emily fought against the kiss, breathing hard through her nose. She twisted her head to get away from him.

  “We’re not lovers.”

  “Maybe not, but whatever we are, you like it.” His hands moved up to grip her breasts through the thin material of her blouse. His thumbs drew circles around her nipples. Emily closed her eyes an
d pressed her lips tightly together.

  “I don’t.”

  “Now you are the liar.” Miguel’s hands were roaming freely over her body, roughly squeezing her breasts and tracing her curves, and then he moved his right hand down between her legs.

  Emily gasped and tried to close her legs, but he kissed her again and forced his hand between her thighs. Watching, Josh grew alarmed, and half-rose from his seat. Your wife is down there , part of his brain was shouting at him. You should be saving her! But then he heard her moan and gasp again, and he dropped back down into his seat.

  Miguel curled his fingers up and then stretched them out again, this time beneath the material of Emily’s panties. When she stiffened and moaned into his mouth, Josh knew what was happening. She’s being fingered! He was surprised and a little ashamed to notice that his cock was beginning to stiffen in his pants.

  “You’re wet, chica .”

  Emily shuddered and twisted away from his mouth again. “Miguel, please.”

  “Lie to me. Tell me you don’t want it. It turns me on.” He attacked her mouth again, driving her into the couch pillows and pinning her body beneath him. His fingers continued to work between her legs, and Emily shook and gasped at the powerful sensations he was sending through her body.

  He kissed her a while longer, his tongue swirling inside of his mouth, and then he pulled back and pulled his wet fingers out of her pussy. Emily made a sound in the back of her throat that might have been disappointment, but then she gasped as he grabbed the front of her blouse and ripped it open. Buttons went skittering across the floor.

  She’s going to be pissed , Josh thought. That’s her favorite blouse. His stiff cock was trapped in an uncomfortable position within his jeans. He reached into the front of his pants and pulled it flat against his abdomen. He was feeling strongly turned-on, in part because he and Emily hadn’t had sex in weeks. She’s getting off , he thought to himself. Who says I shouldn’t get off, too?

  Miguel wasn’t concerned with how Emily felt about her ruined top or any other part of the situation. He pulled the blouse up over her head and off, then reached around her to fumble with the clasp of her bra.

  Emily wasn’t actively fighting him, but she wasn’t quite ready to submit, either. “This is wrong.”

  He didn’t seem to care. “Shut up.” He sealed off more complaints by kissing her hard.

  Her eyes closed and her mouth drifted open. Miguel plundered her lips and explored her mouth with his tongue. Josh could see that she was not so much taking part as she was letting it happen, but Miguel didn’t seem to care one way or the other. He was happy to take everything she offered. With one quick motion he pulled her bra away and Emily’s full breasts swung free.

  For the first time in years, Josh was forcefully struck by how beautiful his wife’s chest was. A perfectionist might say they were just a touch too big for her slender frame, but they were wonderfully full and round, and they hung on her body like the most tempting fruit in the Garden of Eden. As his eyes drank her in, his fingers unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his cock. He began stroking himself just as Miguel ducked down and took a nipple in his mouth, sucking on it forcefully. Emily groaned and let her head drop back. Miguel turned his attention to the other breast and sucked it fondly, kissing the curving bottom of it and circling his tongue around the nipple. He trapped one of her nipples between his teeth and lightly bit down.

  Emily let out a yelp that was equal parts surprise, pain, and growing arousal. “Oh!”

  Miguel, feeling the spur of his own need, was ready for more. He kissed her again and grabbed each side of her panties, then wrestled them off and down her legs. As they passed her feet they took one high-heeled shoe with it, leaving the other dangling precariously on the toes of her left foot. He didn’t wait for her reaction. Instead, he got down on one knee, placed both hands on the inside of her thighs, and delivered a long, wet lick up her pussy.

  “Ah! Fuck.” Emily threw her head back and stared at the ceiling with wide eyes. Something Miguel did between her legs made her moan and shake.

  “You made me wait. Why do you make me wait?” He sounded angry with her, and attacked her pussy with his tongue.

  Josh had always thought that he needed to be gentle with her down there. He had always taken pains to insinuate himself by degrees. Now he was seeing another way. His cock was almost painfully hard. He started stroking himself faster. He wanted to come; he wanted to feel the release that an orgasm would bring. “Fuck her,” he muttered. “You’ve made my wife your whore, so get her ready and then give it to her hard.”

  Miguel brought up his right hand and inserted two fingers in her pussy, twisting them around and pumping at her. He went back to licking her. Emily’s fingers grasped desperately at the couch cushions. Her breath was speeding up.

  “Come on,” Miguel muttered from between her milky thighs. “Give it to me.”

  Emily screwed her eyes shut, her mouth hanging open. The look on her face was indescribable, poised somewhere halfway between pleasure and pain, or perhaps pleasure and an even greater pleasure that Josh had never shown her. She took in one long, trembling breath, and then her entire body began to quake.

  “I...I’m...oh God!” She gasped an incoherent syllable, then a shock wave passed through her body and Josh realized he was watching his wife’s orgasm. She was coming on the fingers and tongue of another man.

  “That’s it, chica . Let it out. No more pretending.” Miguel kept pumping his fingers in her while she rode out her orgasm, then finally she lay still, her eyes closed, panting.

  He stood up purposefully and undid the buttons on his work shirt one by one. He let it drop to the floor, then unfastened his belt, kicked off his boots, and stepped out of his pants. His cock was straining against the material of his briefs until he pushed those down and set it free. It bobbed in the air, standing up nearly perpendicular to his thickly-muscled torso.

  Emily opened her eyes and stared at his member with an expression that resembled dread. Miguel stepped forward, straddling her and placing one knee on the couch so that the head of his cock was inches from her face.

  “Now it’s my turn,” he said, and pushed his hips forward. The crest of his manhood butted against Emily’s lips. Slowly, reluctantly, she opened her mouth and he slid inside.

  Miguel took a handful of her hair to hold her in place. His hips rocked rhythmically, fucking her mouth. “Yes, I’m a liar,” he hissed. “You force me to lie by pretending that you don’t want this.”

  Emily might have said something but she had a mouthful of cock. Josh timed the motion of the hand on his cock to synchronize with Miguel’s hips. He wondered what it would be like to use Emily that way. The idea of it felt wrong, but it also filled him with an angry arousal.

  Holding her head, Miguel pumped into and out of her a few more times. His cock was wet with her spit. “That’s right, bitch. Take it,” he muttered, his eyes closed.

  One thrust went too deep and Emily choked on it. Miguel took that as a signal to move things along. Drawing his member out of her mouth, he grabbed the hem of her skirt and pulled it roughly down. Emily gasped and grabbed at the couch to avoid sliding off onto the floor. Her second shoe came off with the skirt, leaving her completely naked. He surveyed her fully-exposed body like a pirate taking inventory of his booty. Reaching out two thick fingers, he pinched her left nipple, hard.

  “Ouch! Miguel, don’t!” Emily protested.

  “Don’t what?”

  For the second time that afternoon Josh wondered whether he’d need to run downstairs to prevent a rape, but then his wife finished her sentence.

  “Don’t leave a mark.”

  In his head, Josh supplied the translation: Don’t do anything that my husband will notice. Don’t leave me with something I’ll have to lie about. Her dark eyes were wide and her breasts were heaving.

  “I’ll do what I want, chica .” He loomed over her and kissed her hard, forcing his tongue in her mo
uth, and then pulled back far enough to stare forcefully into her eyes. “And whatever I want, you’ll let me do it, because you want it, too.”

  He grabbed her feet and pulled them wide, then kneeled in the space between. Josh’s breathing picked up speed at the sure knowledge of what he was about to see. Miguel took hold of his cock and aimed it at Emily’s slit. She was looking down the length of her body, her arms splayed at her side, a look of fearful expectation on her face.

  He pushed his hips forward. His clock slid its full length inside. Emily moaned and let her head fall back, her eyes tightly closed.

  “Oh, yes,” Miguel groaned, grinding the base of his fat cock against her clitoris. “That’s so good. Your pussy is so fucking tight.”

  He began pushing in and out of her. Emily’s breasts bounced with every thrust, and her thighs bobbed in time with the movements of his hips. She lifted her arms above her head and braced her hands against the arm of the couch to keep from sliding back and forth. Once his dick was fully lubricated, Miguel began to pick up the pace. Through his computer’s speakers Josh could clearly make out the sounds of flesh slapping against wet flesh.

  Miguel leaned forward, resting on his arms with his hands on either side of Emily. Her eyes were closed, and she was making little grunting sounds every time his balls slapped against her ass. When he leaned down and kissed her, she hesitated for a moment before opening her mouth. His tongue swirled inside her mouth, then her tongue came out to play. All pretense of resistance was gone, Josh noted. Not only was his wife letting another man fuck her, she was kissing him like he was the only man on earth.

  Miguel settled into a rhythm. He pounded Emily three or four times, then rested in between thrusts with his cock deeply embedded in her, before repeating the pattern. All the while he was kissing her deeply and sloppily. Emily’s arms, which had been bracing her against the couch frame, started to drift down past his shoulders until her hands were resting on his sides, then finally slipped up his back to hold onto him.