Untethered Hearts

Jessa was bored. As was usual for Jessa, whenever she got bored, she found herself in trouble.

That’s me, by the way. Jessa Bell. Okay, maybe “found” is the wrong verb. Jumped in it with both feet might be more accurate. Trouble and I know each other intimately; as in not platonically, if you catch my drift. Once or twice, trouble has screwed me over… royally… in my tight little bung-hole. That’s another story altogether. Maybe I’ll tell that story one day or maybe not. I mean, the best a girl can do when that happens is to adjust the tits in the boulder holder and get back on the sybian.

So, a bit about me, I’ve got strawberry blonde hair with Poliosis, a naturally occurring white streak. Most of the time people don’t notice it, but when they do, they can’t seem to shut up about it. I tell people that’s where my demon hides. I mean, what else can I say about it? Some people it scares, some people scoff, but generally they leave me alone about it after that. I wear my hair a little bit long, shoulder length, never longer. At five foot four and one-hundred-twenty pounds with an hour glass figure, I like to think that I am soft in all the right places. I’m also prone to refer to myself in the third person. I do it to annoy the shit out of people. So shoot me, I’m kinky like that sometimes.

So, anyway, like yeah, that’s why me and trouble are friends with benefits. Back to the story though, when I get bored out of my gourd bored, one of my activities is to look for ways to rub one out. I really like when my panties get wet. But when I get that bored I mostly go commando. It makes it easier to rub my clit. I sometimes do the web-cam thing just so I can get a good squirt out. But I digress.

One day I’m looking through the personal ads on a website, because that’s a thing I do too. I fantasize about answering the personal ads and masturbate. Anyway, I find one that’s kind of cryptic, but it gets me juiced up. It says, “Seductress wanted. Seduce and fuck my husband. K.” I can’t explain why, but it made me a puddle of orgasm. And against my better judgment I actually thought about answering the ad! What if it was some pervert that was pretending to be a wife that placed the ad… and that gave me another orgasm right there! Oh boy, Oh buddy, get your erection ready trouble, because here I come.

So I enter a response, “Seductress here. I want to fuck your husband. J.”

I had to go to work commando the next three days anticipating a reply. I was dripping. I pity the poor soul who gets my office chair when I’m done with it.

Then the reply comes, “Seductress, let’s meet. Tell me the time and place. K.”

I was so excited I had an orgasm without having to rub myself. I signed into the web-cam site and teased all the guys and gals so that I could squirt enough to calm down before I send anything back. Hell, I pretty much gave them a free show, that’s how much I wanted to cum and squirt. I was exhausted by the time I shut down the show. I called in sick the next day also. I was French kissing trouble at this point. Come get me big boy, shove it in me.

Neutral ground I thought. K wanted to meet, and it was up to me to pick a place and time. Some place public in case I needed to exit without having to commit if things were wonky. I could think of half a dozen places that were public enough. What I needed was some place that set the right mood too. I also needed a hook, a sign, or something that would let me see them before they saw me. I gave it a little bit of thought before I sent my reply.

I sent back, “Barbarossa’s 5th Ave, 9 P.M. Thursday, Carnation on table. J.”

I receive a reply almost immediately, “Confirmed. K.” I just about melt down at that point. But I got to hold it together until Thursday, so I do another web-cam show and when I’m spent I drift off to sleep afterward. That reminds me… I once did a web-cam show where I was trying to sleep and the viewers could buzz my device while I slept and try to wake me up with orgasms. It was a thrill for a minute and a half until the watchers got sadistic about trying to wake me up. Don’t get me wrong… I got off big time, but eventually I needed sleep more than I needed to squirt.

Thursday rolls around and I’m ready to leave work early I’m so jumpy. Then I think what the hell am I going to wear? Oh yeah, look like a seductress. What the fuck does a seductress look like I wondered? Ooh, wait a minute… I got just the number in my closet. It’s black. It’s form-fitting up top. It flounces down below and I look like a million bucks wearing it. I’m definitely going to rock seductress. Seductress Commando, super sucker extraordinaire! I’m psyched up.

I head out early. If trouble is going to hump my bum I want to get there early to watch the action. Ring side seat for me trouble! I want to watch as you poke me in my rosy! But tonight, trouble is being patient and sneaky. I don’t see him around. I settle down at the bar and bolster my nerve with a Tom Collins while I wait for K. The dinner crowd thins out a bit around 8:45 and I start to look around. I fend off a couple of passes from two desperate married men. One of them even tells the bartender to give me another of what I’m having. I’m still nursing the one I have, so the second is melting on the bar in front of me. Sorry boys. I got plans for tonight. Any other time I might have taken you up on it, but I got something special on for tonight.

Then I see it, the carnation on the table. I see K, and she’s sitting there prim and proper kind of matronly. I’m intrigued as hell, but I don’t want to come across as too eager do I? I want to come across as cool as a cucumber so I sit there until my pulse is under control again. I leave a tip for the bartender and slide off the bar stool. Good thing the dress is keeping my dampness from sticking to the seat. I have my own carnation too, but it was lying down on the bar sort of hidden until now. I take it with me and walk over to her table from a direction she won’t see me coming.

“K? I’m J.” as I set my carnation down next to hers. I see her eyes widen when she looks up at me. That’s good. I know I’m not homely, but it’s good to see that she’s impressed with my looks. I think I might like her. She looks a bit formal wearing a dark green business suit. It contrasts with her red hair that has touches of silver. Definitely older than me by ten to fifteen years I’d guess. I ask, “Mind if I join you?”

She nods, says “No, please” in a tremulous manner. I’m guessing this is a first time thing for her. She may want a seductress for her husband, but I can tell I’m going to have to seduce her first. Then again, maybe she’s been hounded by a horn-dog into doing this.

I sit across from her in the booth. “My name’s Jessa.” I offer her a handshake. I’m not sure what she was expecting, but I can see her trying to come to grips with meeting me the first time. She’s slow in taking up my hand, timid, but finally she does.

“Katrina.” And that’s it. Maybe she’s having second thoughts about all this. Then she adds, “You look younger than I expected.” Trouble is peeking over her shoulder at me with bedroom eyes.

I chuckle and hope I’m not killing my chances.

“You didn’t specify an age range.”

The waiter appears with her drink. It looks like an Old Fashioned. I order my usual, a Tom Collins. Not much is said while we wait for my drink to arrive. She takes a couple of tentative sips, working up the nerve to keep going with this I think. I study her a bit, she looks delicious. I want to taste those lips with gloss the same color as her hair. I don’t want to scare her off yet. She might not be okay with me making a pass at her. I shift a little in the booth trying to get more comfortable. I make idle chit chat about the weather and movies to kill a couple of minutes. When I get my drink I don’t drink it right away, I just stir it slowly and wait to see if she starts talking without prompting. It looks like it’s up to me to start the ball rolling. I take a polite drink from my glass, and I ask, “Is there anything you want to know about me?”

She starts to say something a couple of times, but doesn’t. I’m starting to think about grabbing one of her hands and sucking on a couple of her fingers just to break the log jam of silence. What if she doesn’t really want to know anything about me? I’ve been refraining from talking about her husband because I don’t want to seem anxious to hop in the sack with him in case she really doesn’t want that after all. Heh, a high-powered seductress like me is supposed to be able to turn it on and off in a blink right? Oh shit, maybe she thinks I’m a hooker or call girl. I’m not worried about being arrested for solicitation. I haven’t asked for payment or anything like that. I’m not going to either. I’m strictly in this for the sex, Jessa is a card carrying nymphomaniac. Maybe I’m not cut out to be a seductress because I enjoy sex too much. I leave a tip on the table for the drink and now I can tell K, Katrina is feeling the pressure.

“I want a divorce,” she blurts out and looks like she wants to take it back, but it’s in the air already. Holy Moly Batman, Katrina just jumped in the deep end!

With my hand on my clutch bag, I lay it out bluntly, “So, divorce him.”

“You don’t understand.”

“You’re right, I don’t understand. So lay it out for me. Why won’t divorce in a no-fault state, not fit the bill?”

“I don’t want to have to explain to family and friends. He doesn’t satisfy me anymore. If he’s caught cheating…”

“With me,” I helpfully added.

“With you, yes, I wouldn’t have to tell anybody why.”

I took my hand off my clutch bag and considered what she had just told me. She took a big swallow of her drink, in need of some liquid courage I’d wager. There was a tiny flush on her cheeks when I looked her straight in the eye. “What makes you think hubby would jump in the sack with me?”

“What man wouldn’t? You’re gorgeous!”

“Thank you,” I say. I wasn’t fishing for compliments, but I’ll graciously take every compliment that comes my way. “I’m not every man’s heart throb or turn on by any means. There’s got to be some chemistry. I don’t know what your husband looks for in a woman, but if I’m not it, I’ll be letting you down. If I keep trying when he doesn’t want me, it’ll get creepy and stalker like. I don’t want that.”

I see the gears turning in her head then. I must have gotten through to her because she comes back with, “Oh…. OH! This is more complicated than I thought it would be. What should I do then?”

Now I’m really interested in doing this. “Okay, let’s get one thing straight up front though. We aren’t talking about a piece of meat. If I like him, I’ll be like the pony express in the wild, wild, west. I’ll ride him hard and put him away wet. But I may keep him as a fuck toy after we’re through. Do you think you can handle that if I’m humping his brains out and you show up after you divorce him?”

That gave her something to think about.

“You don’t need to answer that just now. This is going to take at least a couple more conversations. You got time to think about it. I’ll stop if you want to back out before I actually do seduce him. I think we should have our next conversation somewhere more private, don’t you? Give me a couple of days and I’ll pick a spot we can meet. Will hubby get suspicious if you go on a weekend outing with the girls? We’ll do a spa weekend. How does that sound?”

Katrina nodded and then added almost breathlessly, “I’ve always wanted to try a spa weekend. Can we go to Holly Springs Creek in Dahlonega?”

I pull up the website on my phone. “Mmmmm, yummy! Shall I make us a reservation now? It looks like we can get in 3 weeks from now. Friday and Saturday night… Jessa Bell and Katrina…”

“Starnes…”

A couple of taps more on the phone then, “All set. I’ll meet you there 8 P.M. Friday three weeks from now. We’re going to be best friends! Spa buddies!” I get up and give her a light hug across the shoulders and a peck on the cheek while I’m trying to memorize how she smells. I’m feeling positively buoyant. All the way home I’m daydreaming about peeling her like a shrimp and licking her from bottom to top, top to bottom and I’m so hot by the time I get home I have to do a cam show just to get to sleep. It’s safer to masturbate in public through a cam show than to wander around out in public and masturbate. For one, the prospect of arrest is way lower. For two, there are fewer uninvited guests participating. Although, to be honest, I’ve given myself one wicked orgasm while fantasizing about fending off an opportunist rapist. I’m not about to try that for real. Nope, Jessa’s not into rape for real. Shut up trouble.

Anyway, I manage to make it through 3 weeks. I only had to sneak off to the ladies room a couple of times to relieve the pressure while I was at work. I can imagine what the other women think when they walk in and hear the panting and fapping sounds coming from the stall. I never heard anyone walking in when I’m in my mood in the ladies room. For all I know I’m the talk of the office. It makes me hot thinking about that some times. Oh, look, there goes Jessa to rub one out in the ladies room! I work. I get paid. Nobody seems to mention it to me. I’ve got no reason to stop yet.

Spa day cometh…. I love the way that sounds. I take a half day off so I’ve got time to go through my collection of toys that I want to pack for the trip. I pack my jammies too, although I don’t anticipate wearing them much. Tonight I’ll learn about hubby. His name for one; what he likes; what he doesn’t like, anything that might help me get into his pants. Katrina is going to be my main focus tonight and tomorrow while I ply her for that information. If I’m lucky, I’ll get into her pants before the weekend is over. Jessa’s a horny girl.

I am to meet Katrina in the lobby. I’m carrying my 2 black carry-on sized bags. One contains my clothing for the weekend; it’s much lighter than the bag with my accessories. I’m giddy, practically bouncing up and down when I walk through the front door. I walk up behind her while she is waiting in line at the desk to check in. I wrap my arms around her from behind and hug her likes she’s my BFF. “Katrina… Bestie,” I coo. Can she feel how hard my nipples are on her back? Maybe; she’s slow to relax almost like this makes her uncomfortable. “I’ve scheduled us facials for tomorrow just after breakfast. My treat! This weekend is going to be great! Did you get a chance to eat yet? I think they have room service if you need something.”

“Are you manic or something? Slow down and take a breath now and then.” She’s looking like she thinks she committed a faux pas; as if she had blurted out, “Curb your enthusiasm!” I smile at her and hug her again letting her know she didn’t hurt my feelings. It hadn’t occurred to me that she might not be as demonstrative as I am. I’m not going to let that get in my way though. After all, Jessa’s going to do what Jessa’s going to do. “Thank you, Jessa, I’ve… I’ve eaten.”

I take her hand and steer her toward the front desk now that the queue has cleared. I speak to the lady there, “Reservation for Jessa Bell and Katrina Starnes,” and hand her my identification card and credit card that I used for the reservation. Her name badge reads “Dory” and she looks pleasant. Katrina mentions that she intended to pay for her room not knowing that I only reserved the one room with King sized bed for the both of us. Dory asks if we want to keep the room on my card or put it on Katrina’s and I tell her we’ll keep it on mine. Dory gets our key cards ready and bids us a good weekend. I give her a big smile, “We definitely will Dory!” and Dory returns my smile.

Katrina is nonplussed. I hold her hand up and press the card key for Room 7 in her palm. “Go relax. I’ll be along in a minute. I’m making a quick stop at the wine bar. Do you like red or white?” She’s being swept along by a gale named Jessa, she’s not sure of anything at the moment.

“Ah yes, Champagne; good choice dear.” I add. She takes a moment to get her bearings and takes a couple of steps toward our room. Katrina looks shyly back at me over her shoulder. I beam at her and make tiny shooing motions with my hands until she moves again. I order 2 bottles of bubbly and a chilling bucket for our room and put it on the room tab.

Upon arriving in the room, Katrina is sitting on the edge of the bed and scanning around at the beautifully appointed furnishings. In one motion I pull my dress up over my head and toss it across a chair. Katrina gasps when she sees I haven’t worn a bra or panties. I giggle, “Don’t be shy, I haven’t got anything you haven’t seen before… except maybe this…” and I point to my birthmark cradled by my right hipbone. It looks like a cat on the prowl, tail curled up at the end pointed toward my breast. She stares at it wide-eyed and I’m thinking she just might be hooked. I pull my bikini out of my small suit case and slip it on adjusting here and there. The bikini doesn’t do anything to hide my birthmark. I interrupt her reverie, “Hey girl, get ready for the hot tub!”

I wait as patiently as I can for her to undress and change. She’s got a really nice figure for someone older than me and I’m having a hard time not grabbing her while she’s trying to change. The knock on the door elicits a startled yelp from her and helpfully distracts me. I look out the peephole. “Don’t worry. It’s the champagne.” Katrina has her mint green and white floral one-piece only half way on when I start to open the door.

“Wait!” she squeaks. So I wait, as I give her a sly grin. I’m teasing her. Jessa is a mean girl sometimes. But the desired effect got Katrina moving a bit quicker. I pull the chilling bucket and bottles into the room when she’s finished. It’s not cold enough yet, so I put off opening a bottle. There’s a mini bar in the room, so I ask her if she wants a quick one before we go to the hot tub. Unfortunately she declines. Oh well. I’ve still got the rest of 2 days to get her to loosen up.

After a few minutes in the hot tub, it’s getting on past 9ish. I’m relaxing and enjoying the jets in the hot water. It’s taking longer for Katrina to relax, so I reach out and start to massage her neck and shoulders. I could practically bounce a quarter off her that’s how taut her muscles are when I start rubbing. I kneed her muscles slowly and surely determined to work out the kinks. For the first few minutes it’s hard to tell if the noises I’m hearing are pain or otherwise. But eventually I hear her breathing relaxing. Every now and then I start planting light kisses on her neck at the base of her scalp. She tenses some, but I keep rubbing until she relaxes again. Then I hear a contented sigh. I ask her if she’s ready to go back to the room and she nods and adds, “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure, sweetie.”

Back in the room I turn on the shower and beckon her over, “Let’s wash the chlorine out.” I grab the shower wand and use it to spray her down. She looks like she would prefer to do that herself, like she wants me to give her the shower wand. I start to help the water sluice the chlorine out of her suit by stroking her suit and body. Katrina’s doesn’t look comfortable with that, but she doesn’t actually object. While I’m standing in the shower with her I peel off my bikini and wring it out. She can’t seem to help herself but steal glances at my pert nipples and how comfortable I am with being nude in front of her. I grab the body wash and start lathering myself. I’m having a good time and I tweak my nipples and rub my pussy clean while she watches. She’s forgotten why she’s in the shower, so I remind her. “It helps to take the suit off.”

She’s cute the way she’s almost embarrassed to get undressed in front of me. From what I’ve seen of her so far, she’s adorable. She has some stretch-marks as women her age do, but I think she’s sexy and lickable. I’m refraining from sucking her tits and clit right then and there. I want her bad, but I don’t want to scare her off.

“My God, you are forward aren’t you?”

I give her a seductive look, “That is what the ad said isn’t it? Seductress wanted.” I lean close to her as I shut the water off. “It wouldn’t do to have an unsatisfied customer would it,” as I stroke her arm and plucked at the top of her suit.

She is beginning to look kind of breathless, so I let her off the hook temporarily and say, “Be a dear and wring out your suit.”

She peels it off finally and with her back to me she starts wringing the excess water out of her suit as I step out of the shower. She’s got a cute ass and I take a second to appreciate it. I grab one of the thick bath towels and wrap it around her. I pat her down with it. I personally think there almost nothing more sensual that being pat down with a bath towel after a shower. With a lover handling the towel it makes me want to melt. I wonder if she is affected the same way. It affords me the chance to feel her breasts and between her legs. I can tell she is getting flustered though and I decide to back down a notch. Katrina is starting to enjoy the sexual tension, but she doesn’t want to admit it yet. I head out of the bathroom still a little wet, but I don’t mind. I uncork the Champagne while I’m holding the ice cold bottle between my legs. Katrina walks out of the bathroom right as the cork pops out of the bottle like an orgasm. I think she might be about to faint as much as she’s over stimulated. She doesn’t seem to realize she’s still not dressed. I mean, there is a towel wrapped around her, but I catch a glimpse of her womanhood, some under boob, some side boob, her long sensuous neck. It’s like a beautiful flower opening its petals.

I pour the champagne and offer her a flute. She hesitates. I down a whole flute of champagne while she eyes it. I pour myself another flute. “In for a penny, in for a pound,” I say. I down my second. If I keep swallowing it like this I’m going to be worthless shortly, but I feel a buzz coming on. I see her reserve crumble and she tilts up the flute and drinks it all to my “Atta girl!”

“Okay, I’m dying to know… what is hubby’s name?” I ask as I refill my flute.

Katrina starts giggling. “I can’t keep up with you! You’re a force of nature! Oh… my… God!”

While I appreciate the adulation, I’m not here to bask in it, but I can let her get it out of her system. I wait patiently for her answer. Shut up trouble. I can wait patiently… sometimes. I stick a finger in my champagne and suck it off my finger. Katrina looks into my eyes. I think she can see the raw hunger there because the tiniest of shudders runs through her and her lower lip trembles.

“Dale,” she says all breathy and whispery. She swallows and finishes the rest of her flute, so I pour more into her glass. She takes 2 more quick sips.

“I’m thinking you should introduce me to Dale. It will make it more plausible when I drop by occasionally.” I roll his name around in my mind thinking “Dale, Dale, I’m going to steal your wife away before I have my way with you…” Katrina is noncommittal, but doesn’t object. “Then we can find a convenient time for you to catch him in bed with me.” After 3 more sips she nods.

I reach into my accessory bag and pull out one of my dildos. “Now, show me on Mr. Rod here how Dale likes to be touched, handled.” Unfortunately I caught her just as she was sipping again and she coughs and sputters through it. “Too big? I’ve got a smaller one in here somewhere…”

“What the… you’ve got… do I even want to know?”

I can tell she’s starting to feel the effects of the alcohol but I refill her champagne flute anyway.

“Seriously,” I tell her, “any information you can give me on how to fuck your husband will help me succeed. I’ll get him in the sack, you’ll slap him with the divorce suit and voila!” I look at her expectantly.

She takes more sips of champagne to bolster her courage, and starts laughing, “I can’t believe you brought those… those…”

“Silicone dicks? Wanna try one out?” I playfully shove the business end at her pelvis as she yelps and titters nervously.

“Wait, wait, I can’t think straight,” as she grabs the dildo to keep it from poking her.

“Okay dear,” I reassure her, “It’s getting kind of late anyway. We should get some sleep,” I say as I turn down the bed clothes. She absent-mindedly hangs on to the dildo as I pull the towel off her and tuck her in the bed. I turn the lights out and climb into bed after her. I rub her neck and shoulders to relax her and I’m rewarded with pleasant small moaning sounds. I cuddle her back while she drifts off to sleep and my nipples ache from wanting her to suck on them. I lightly grind my hips against her ass until I finally drift off.

In the morning I awake to find I’ve cupped her left breast in my hand. I feel her areola and nipple in my palm. It is slightly taut responding to my touch. I can tell she is awake but it seems like she is afraid to move so I pretend to sleep a bit longer. I throw my leg over her like I’m taking possession and start to grind my pussy against her hip. I hear a gasp, but she’s not scrambling to get away. When I’m sure she can feel the slickness of my sex against her, that’s when I stretch and pretend to wake up. I kiss her cheek and murmur, “Good morning.” After yawning, is ask, “Are you hungry? I think they will be bringing breakfast soon.”

I climb on top of her straddling her hips, my nipple brushing hers lightly. Her nipples respond. I sit up and I know she can feel the dampness of my pussy against her belly just above her pubic area. Katrina is starting to feel some sensual sensory overload and all I want to do is keep her hovering over the precipice. Teetering, waiting to fall into my arms and pleasure. She’s clutching my dildo between her breasts like a shield to protect her and I give her a sexy grin. I hop off of her and ignore her sigh of relief.

“Do you think we can try the hiking trail before the facial, or would you prefer to tour the winery?”

“I think I had enough champagne last night. Let’s try the hiking trail.”

“Well, get a move on girl,” I cajole her as I pull the bed covers off of her. Then I feign shock and I say in a fake surprised voice, “Looks like somebody needs a trim!”

Katrina’s eyes grow wide as I retrieve a cordless trimmer from my accessory bag. “What? What?” With an incredulous look on her face she eyes me and my trimmer. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me,” I say with an evil grin on my face and turn on the trimmer.

“Wait! Wait! No! No!”

After a couple of minutes wrestling with her, I’m pretty certain that at least one of her boobs was pressed against my hungry crotch and I’ve turned her bush into an uneven mess with my trimmer and I say, “Now look at what you’ve done. You better let me finish.”

She sighs in exasperation and huffs, “Fine! You’re turning the bed into a mess of pubic hair you brat!”

I smile and say, “That’s what room service is for sweetie.”

Katrina doesn’t say anything more, but she lets me finish trimming her bush close like I keep mine. Occasionally I hear a tiny “uh” as I’m working the trimmer across her pelvis and I see a little spasm. I can tell she’s trying so hard not to squirm, but the vibration is affecting her. I blow the trimmed hair out of the way once or twice and there is a quick intake of breath. I usually wax around the edges to make it neater, but I don’t think she is quite ready for me ripping the hair off her body just yet, even though I would enjoy soothing the burning sensation between her legs. I inspect the job I’ve done trimming her pubic hair. I find the quarter inch light covering of her mound enticing. “Stay here,” I instruct her, “while I get something to clean up the excess hair, otherwise you’ll be itchy and sore later.” I hop off the bed and pad my way into the bathroom, run some hot water, and soak a washcloth before wringing the excess out.

Out of the blue, I hear Katrina ask, “What do you do for a living Jessa?”

I return to the bed, “I’m a DBA for Crosslink I.I.L.” I lay the washcloth against her pussy and start rubbing and stroking the folds to wipe away the stray hairs that I clipped off her.

“Oh, uh, uh, huh, ah, ah, no, nnnh,” Her thighs clamp down on my wrist and she curls up into a fetal position moaning, “enough, stop, stop!”

When I stop she takes the washcloth from my hand while trying to catch her breath. When she has calmed down, she finishes cleaning herself.

“Anyway, my DBA job pays the bills and goes into savings. For spending cash, I do webcam shows.”

Her brow furrows, “What’s a DBA? And, what’s a webcam show?”

“DBA stands for Database Administrator. A webcam show is when I use my computer’s camera to record things I do and people pay to watch.”

“How much do people pay to watch your show?”

“I don’t have set prices for my shows. People just tip me what they feel like most of the time. Sometimes they are very generous. Sometime people just watch without tipping.”

“I can watch for free sometime? I might have to try watching one of your shows.”

“Peachy, Breakfast is coming. Get dressed.” I pat her bum as she gets out of bed. I grin wickedly when I think about Katrina watching one of my webcam shows. I imagine how red her face will get when she finally understands what goes on in one of my webcam shows. I wonder how far her jaw will drop when I start squirting at the camera while rubbing and slapping my clit, cramming 2 and sometimes 3 fingers into my vagina and sawing away at my g-spot.

Katrina scrambles for the bathroom, suitcase in tow when a light knock is heard at the door. I look through the peephole but all I see outside is a serving tray with 2 covered dishes. I bring in the serving tray and open my suitcase to pull out my pastel yellow sundress with periwinkles. It’s held up by spaghetti straps and the skirt is billowy and cinches slightly at the waist line. I pull on my ankle socks, and when Katrina emerges from the bathroom I am tying my CrossFit training shoes. She’s wearing khaki colored hiking shorts, a short sleeved slate blue tee and hiking shoes. “Cute!” I exclaim. I could not see myself ever wearing shorts like that again, but the outfit looks good on her.

“What’s for breakfast?”

I tell her I think it is supposed to be soft-boiled eggs with French toast and bacon. “You can have the bacon if you want. It makes me belch… and you do NOT want to hear or see this girl belch!”

We sit at the table by the patio door to eat. Katrina is looking like she wants to ask a serious question while we eat. I fill her water glass for her and my own. Hesitantly she begins, “Um, Jessa? Do you find me attractive? You’re not just teasing me are you? You keep me flustered with all your sexual innuendo. I hardly know whether I’m walking straight or going in circles. I’ve never been attracted to other women like that. I don’t think I am now, but I’m confused about how I’m feeling.” She looks embarrassed at spilling so many words and almost afraid of hearing my reply.

I drink some water to wash down my bite of food, “My dearest Katrina. Yes I am teasing you, but it is BECAUSE I am so terribly attracted to you. You have no idea of the monumental effort it takes to keep from throwing you down on that bed and ravishing you until you are a silly, delirious puddle of woman beneath me.” I smile as she gulps. “But you asked me to seduce your husband, so that is what I will do for you. Perhaps when I have accomplished that, you will allow me to make love to you day and night, night and day for a week. Do we have a deal?”

She’s barely eaten more than two bites of breakfast, but Katrina says, “I think I’m ready for that walk now. It’s getting warm in here isn’t it?” She puts her sunglasses on, turns toward the door. Turns about and grabs her room card key, then returns yet again for a belt bag. I feel trouble breathing down my neck and watching it all play out before me. My pussy is starting to feel damp watching her. I grab a pat of soft butter and smear it across the face of my slice of French toast and fold it in half. I wolf it down on my way toward the door.

I skip toward the trail head to catch up with her. I love the way the sundress caresses my ass, my thighs and pubic mound as I do so. Katrina is delightful to be around and I enjoy her company. I really want to fuck her brains out like I told her back in the room. But I am content at the moment to seduce her at her own pace. When I catch up to her I grab her hand. I think she is becoming my BFFF, my Best Fucking Friend Forever! Now if only we could get around to the fucking I think to myself. She doesn’t say a lot while we are walking the trail, but the way she steals sideways glances at me I’m hoping that she is softening up to the idea of having sex with me. I fantasize about being nipple to nipple with her and my body is positively vibrating with anticipation.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Katrina says, and I think that it the funniest thing I’ve heard her say. I don’t recognize it; it’s the first time I’ve ever heard anyone say something like that.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I’m just wondering what you’re thinking about right now. Normally, you’re so loquacious, but you haven’t said much in the last half hour.”

“You really want to know? I mean really, really want to know?”

“Um, when you put it like that… I’m not sure.”

“I want to get naked with you… I want to feel what it would be like rolling around in the leaves and kissing and licking each other.”

“Do you ever NOT think about sex?”

I want to be honest with her here. This is the second most engaged conversation we’ve had so far. So I reply, “When I’m at work I try to not think about sex. Every now and then I don’t for a couple of minutes. But that’s about as long as I can go. Besides, I multitask. I can do my work and think about sex at the same time.”

Katrina stops and looks me in the eye, searching. I don’t know what she’s searching for, but she continues, “Jessa, I like you. Against my better judgment, I like you. But you scare the hell out of me... you’re so physical… so erotic… I feel like Icarus flying too close to the sun.”

“Aw, that’s sweet, so romantic!” I can’t help myself, I’ve got to kiss her, so I wrap my arms around her and plant my lips firmly on hers. Despite her reservation and her weak attempt to push me away, I feel her responding and her breathing slowly becomes sultry. Unfortunately my reverie is broken when another hiker walks by and says, “Get a room, girls.”

I grin sheepishly when I break apart from her, but Katrina is turning beet red and panting. She spins and takes a couple of steps along the trail fanning her face and neck with her hand and plucking the front of her tee to get the air circulating. I catch up and walk next to her.

“A penny for your thoughts,” I say.

Her only response is, “Brat.”

It makes the cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on my face wider. Katrina is quiet and I’m content as we walk the trail back to the spa. We check in for our facials and make light conversation while we wait in the spa lobby. The rest of the hour we don’t talk, Katrina and I just luxuriate in the pampering we are receiving.

As we exit the spa Katrina asks, “What are we doing for lunch? I don’t recall eating much for breakfast and I’m feeling famished. I think there is a Biergarten in downtown Dahlonega. Let’s go in my car.”

“I’m game, but when we get back, we really need to discuss Dale.”

She grabs my hand and leads me to her SUV. I don’t want to take a chance of distracting her while she drives us to town so I turn on her radio to find out what music she listens to most often. The current station her radio is set to is jazz. That’s not something I normally listen to, but I try to picture her sitting in a dark and smoky jazz bar while the live band plays whatever is playing on the radio. She smiles and I like the way her whole face smiles and the crow’s feet crinkle. She is slightly musky from our earlier trail walk and I find her scent delicious. I drape my forearm across the console but the vehicle is too big for a casual caress of her thigh without leaning all the way across the console. I resist that temptation.

The Biergarten was verging on crowded, it was noisy with hundreds of beer fueled conversations, and Biergarten music was playing in the background. Katrina looked right at home in her hiking outfit, but there were plenty of other women wearing sundresses like I was. With the cacophony surrounding us, we could only communicate by yelling. Not conducive to talking about much of anything, but at least l enjoyed the food and we made faces at each other like we were still school girls.

When we arrive back at the Inn, Katrina shuts off the engine of her SUV and there is a pregnant pause. I look expectantly at her and I find myself wondering if she is struggling to understand the path she is on; for me to seduce her husband. I don’t have enough contextual experience to know what must go through somebody’s mind when they desire something like this. As I’m not married I don’t know what it is like to have a spouse.

It appears that she has resolved something in her mind. Perhaps it is the notion that I really will seduce and fuck her husband if she wants me to. Will she struggle to overcome the jealousy and possession she might feel toward Dale and the prospect that I will be riding rampant over his and her marital vows to one another. It is not that I believe that those vows should be treated lightly, but it is the fact that my lust for her is beginning to override any rational thought I may have regarding the sanctity of those vows. My pussy is taking control and all I can do is think with that wee brain in my clit, the one that wants to squirt and squirt and squirt until I am but a puddle of a woman.

I shake off my fantasies and realize she is trying to talk to me again. “Let’s go to the room again dear,” she says and I let her lead me there captivated by thoughts of scissoring her until we are both unconscious. If she doesn’t let me fuck her this afternoon I’m going to have to finger myself to orgasm.

We get to the room and she turns to me, “Jessa… Jessa… Where are you?”

I struggle to surface from my sordid fantasies and somehow I manage to.

When Katrina can see I’ve actually returned to my brain, she tells me, “I’m not sure what to tell you about how I handle Dale’s penis.” She sighs and continues her confessional, “When the children were teens we had trouble finding time for sex. We still had sex occasionally, but it was so, so routine and boring,” and there is another pause. Perhaps she is trying to justify her request, or perhaps she is just trying to find the right words. “Now that the kids are starting college and away from the house we have all the time in the world for sex, but it doesn’t seem to happen.” She looks at me expectantly, and I think she is hoping that I’m able to understand all that she’s telling me. Part of it is confusing me as I have no life context to rely upon. But because I want sex, and I want it now, I pretend that I understand. I don’t intend to deceive Katrina; I just want her so much I’m not thinking about the ramifications of my actions. She adds, “I think we are what are colloquially known as empty-nesters.”

My lust fueled brain comes up with an inkling of an idea. I grasp at it, knowing that if I’m not successful I risk ruining my chances. Oh God, I think, when did I become so smitten with Katrina. I start trying to articulate my idea, though it sounds hare-brained even to me, “So, I guess I just play to his normal masculine instincts to rescue a damsel in distress?”

Katrina eyes me like she did earlier in the day, searching for something. I’m still not sure what she is searching for. Maybe she finds it, maybe she doesn’t but she decides to forge ahead anyway, “That might work. Do I want to know what you have planned?”

Shyly I admit, “Right now, I don’t have any definite plan. I’m so horny I’m afraid I can’t think very clearly. Do you mind if I touch you?”

“What do you mean?”

I lean toward her face, and my lips lightly brush hers; lightly kiss her upper lip, then her lower lip. They are soft and gentle and yielding because she is not yet returning my kisses.

“I’m, um, I’m not… sure…”

My kisses wander over to where her upper and lower lips join.

“Uh…”

I think she wants to protest, but since this is different than this afternoon when I took possession of her mouth on the trail and she now has to make a definitive decision about whether to allow me to continue or not, whether to respond positively or negatively to my overture, she hesitates. This is the attention I believe she desires from Dale and seems to be missing. I judge that Katrina is craving a partner’s sexual hunger and Dale does not appear to be satisfying that need. Her indecision emboldens me and I trace a line of kisses to the lobe of her ear and then down her neck toward her collar bone.

“Jessa…” she breathes. I don’t know what she wants to say and I don’t care at this point, I just want to keep kissing her skin. I know my temperature is rising, but hers must be also because I can’t tell a difference. Her t-shirt is in the way, so I shove the hem above her belly and start kissing the bottom of her rib cage. She shudders like it is tickling, but all I hear is a whimper. I nibble her belly around her navel and there is a sharp intake of breath. Her back arches like she wants me to dive into her belly and devour her. She is panting now as I undo the button on her shorts and start kissing below her belt-line. She lifts her hips; an invitation to slide her shorts down past the curve of her backside. That’s an invitation I do not want to pass up, so I curl my fingers around the waistline of her shorts and slide them off. As my lips move over her hipbones I tug them down her thighs and past her knees. They stop at her hiking shoes, but at this point I have all the access I need to explore her womanhood. I kiss the border of her bush and nibble at the crease where her leg joins her torso. Katrina grabs my head and guides my lips to where she most desires attention. I am happy to satisfy her need. When my tongue contacts her clitoral hood, she groans and pulls my head closer. My tongue circles her clit and then it laps noisily as her vagina gets moist against my chin. Her hips buck against my mouth, signaling an approaching climax. My tongue starts diving into her searching for that g-spot. Katrina’s breathe is heavy and fast; and her hands drop to the bed and bunch up the sheets in her fists.

“Oh... oh….” Katrina gasps, “Fuck!”

Her body spasms in a powerful orgasm under my ministrations, but I haven’t had enough yet. I’m still hungry and I keep gobbling more and more of her sex, until she is writhing and squirming. One hand on her hip bone, I hang on while my mouth possesses a different portion of her anatomy than earlier today. My other hand manipulates my clit, vagina, g-spot, and labia; alternately slapping, rubbing and pinching me closer and closer to my own plateau. When I come I moan, “uhmmm, uhmmm, uhmmm,” and I can’t tell if she is vibrating under my mouth or my mouth is vibrating on her lips or the vibration is echoing back and forth between us.

“Oh no… Oh no… Oh God… no more… Oh… God”

Her body arches underneath me and grows rigid as her next climax hits like a bolt of lightning followed by Katrina shuddering and shaking so hard I can’t keep my mouth on her any longer. I lay my head on her pelvis when it seems the quivering has slowed. Under my cheek are small spasms of aftershock. I might have satisfied my hunger for the moment.

I think she has passed out. I don’t know because I doze off. I wake up from my cat nap a little later. Katrina hasn’t budged beneath me and her shorts are still down around her ankles. I’m on my knees at the edge of the bed. Before I get up, I undo the laces of her hiking boots and tenderly slide them off her feet as well as pulling her shorts the rest of the way off. I lift her legs and feet up onto the bed and she curls up on her side still asleep. I kiss her ass cheek, climb into bed to snuggle up against her back and drift off to sleep again.

I wake up a couple of hours later and Katrina is dressed again, albeit dressed in pajamas. If I were still horny the flannel would have perhaps cooled my ardor, but instead she just looks huggable. I am sexually content for the moment and feeling a different kind of hunger, my tummy grumbles as it has been a long while since the Biergarten. I stumble into the bathroom and wash the sex off my face with a washcloth. In the room I gaze at the chilling bucket for the champagne; the ice is completely melted, bottle empty. But we have an unopened bottle, so we need ice. I pick up the bucket and empty the water into the sink and turn toward the door. I’m planning on refilling the ice and chilling the second bottle. My hand is on the door handle and I’m about to exit.

“You may want to get dressed Jessa,” Katrina informs.

I don’t remember when it happened, but at some point earlier I must have thrown off my sundress. Part of me is thinking I should at least have a butt plug in. The more sane part of me is thinking perhaps I should put clothing on. Trouble is trying to tell me to grab the butt plug and go. My buzz is saying, “Did we bring pajamas? I want to go back to sleep.” The sex drunk part of me is saying, “Which is more important, butt plug or ice?” Damn… too many people are talking in my head. I close my eyes and shush the cacophony playing out in my mind. I pick up the bag I use for my clothing and rummage. Should I go with the fishnet bra and panties? Cute I think; but maybe still not appropriate. It’s a good thing the butt plug is in the other bag or I might have taken trouble’s advice. Give me a break! Why is this so hard a topic? On the other hand, I see a swatch of fabric just on the other side of the bed post that reminds me of my discarded sundress. I pick it up and make sure I haven’t shredded it for some reason. It appears to be serviceable still, so I pull it back on. That’s a relief because the butt plug takes a while to get in if I’m not ready for it. I take my card key and the champagne chilling bucket and a few minutes later return with ice in the bucket, crackers, and caviar. The champagne should be chilled by the time I figure out how to get the tin of caviar opened.

I unlock my cell phone, hand it to Katrina and ask her to enter her contact info. I suggest we should be close friends as it will provide plenty of opportunities to observe the best way to approach seducing Dale. Of course, the close proximity will allow me plenty of opportunities to indulge Katrina as well and I plan on making the most of those opportunities.

After we check out the next morning, I follow her back to her house. She introduces Dale to the new friend she just made at the spa retreat with her other friends. I hug him and thank him profusely for allowing Katrina the time at the spa. While I am there, I wander through their house and relish the expansion of my friends with benefits entourage. One way or another I will get Dale over to my townhouse and get him into my bed. When I do, I will send Katrina our prearranged signal for her to come over and catch him in flagrante delicto. Over the next months, I became a fixture at their house and they became the same for mine. Well, Katrina more so than Dale, but I did manage to at least get Dale acclimated to coming over to assist me with minor issues that cropped up where I just needed a man to fix things for me.

Because I do webcam shows a lot, and I like to do so in a variety of settings, most of my townhouse is wired with cameras for streaming. I even have the ability to switch perspectives from one room to another when I decide I want to change things up. As part of my set up, I also have the ability to stream any of my cameras straight to my cell phone.

I had worked hard to set up this meeting between Dale and Katrina. Okay, maybe having sex wasn’t really hard work, but Dale had been so resistant to my passes for so long. I was anticipating the fireworks, the blow up of their marriage. I would of course console each of them with tender kisses and yummy sex after they divorced. I was getting tingly at my core contemplating the revenge sex they would each want with me. Dale was sleeping off a morning of passionately wild haymaking. I’d sexed him up and exhausted him before giving Katrina the signal to “discover” us. I was hiding in the ensuite bathroom watching on my cell phone as she came through the front door. I experienced a twinge of nervousness when she walked to my play room door and peered in. She knew where my bed was, I had enjoyed her body on several occasions there. I couldn’t figure out why she started out by looking in my professional masturbator lair. After eyeing the contents for half a minute or more, she pulled the door quietly shut and turned toward the appointed confrontation. I switched perspectives on my phone so I can see Dale lying there in rumpled sheets, our mixed orgasmic juices slowly drying on his sated body.

Katrina appears in the doorway. I can hear her voice on the other side of my closed bathroom door.

“Dale, wake up!”

It seems odd that there is not more shouting, but Dale startles awake and sits up. He tries to cover his nudity with my sheets, but the edge is stuck underneath him.

“Get dressed. We’re going home.”

No, no, no, and again no; this is not at all going the way it’s supposed to go. I start thinking feverishly about how I can set things back on track. I’m not paying attention to my phone, and Katrina opens the door startling me. The washcloth under my right foot chooses this moment to slide causing me to lose my balance. I try to catch myself, but I land on my butt with a wet splat from our mixed juices.

“I can explain,” I say as I grasp the only straw left available to get their divorce back on track.

“No need,” she says which causes me to falter. It’s probably one of the few times in my life that I have been speechless.

I search her face and she is calm and there is no rancor nor is there pity. I see Dale pulling on his shirt just behind her looking bewildered as well. She glances back and takes his hand and whispers something his direction that I can’t hear. I’m growing afraid of what it might be. “But…”

“Be well Jessa. We’re going to reconcile and we won’t be seeing you again.”

The bottom just fell out of my world. “What? Why?”

“We need to concentrate on each other without you pestering either one of us for sex.”

I scrabble forward on my hands and knees and clutch at her clothes. “I can be good. I need you, I need Dale, please, don’t do this.”

“My dear Jessa,” and she strokes my cheek which is mysteriously wet with my tears, “As wonderful as the past weeks have been, as sexy as you are; I have no doubt that given enough time you can be good. But there’s just no other way to do this.”

So that’s how I became a failed home-wrecker. It started out slowly; I didn’t even realize I was failing. Then suddenly, all at once, I found myself at the pinnacle of failure; watching my erstwhile lovers walking out of the door and out of my life.

Jessa was bored. Jessa was heartbroken and bored. As was usual for Jessa, whenever she got bored, she found herself in trouble. Heartbroken and bored was a different matter altogether. Trouble’s presence was scarce lately. Jessa was so heartbroken she has been celibate for 15 weeks! No masturbation, no webcam shows, nothing for 15, count them, 15 weeks.

One day I’m looking through the personal ads on a website, because that’s a thing I do too. I reminisce about that time I masturbated after I had answered a personal ad. Anyway, I find one that’s kind of cryptic, but it causes my breath to hitch. It says, “Seductress wanted. Seduce and fuck my wife. D.” What the hell trouble? You want to put me through that emotional wringer again?

Despite my trepidation, I enter a response hoping beyond all reason it’s who I think it is, “Seductress here. I want to fuck your wife. J.”

I can barely concentrate on work the next three days anticipating a reply.

Then the reply comes, “Seductress, let’s meet. Barbarossa’s 5th Ave, 9 P.M. Thursday, Carnation on table. D.”

I reply immediately, “Confirmed. J.”

Now I’m sitting in a booth at Barbarossa’s by 9 P.M. Thursday evening, carnation in front of me plainly visible; my heart beating a mile a minute, afraid to look any direction other than at my lonely carnation as it waits for attention.

“J? I’m D.” as he sets his carnation down next to mine. Another voice I’m longing to hear says, “Mind if we join you?” My eyes widen, but immediately start to tear up. I blubber around my tears and snot, “I missed you guys.” I can barely see Dale’s smile through the water in my eyes. I feel Katrina’s arm cradle me and it feels like I’m coming home.