7 If That's Your Husband, Well, He Wasn't Last Night

I knew it was wrong to look at him in such a way. After all, he was nowhere near my type, he was short, quite talkative and seemed like a nervous wreck whenever someone spoke to him. Plus he was my co-worker. He was also married. Wrong on so many levels. But I didn’t care. Whether he knew it or not, he belonged to me.

Rewind to a few months ago when the company hosted a party at a bowling alley. He had brought his wife with him. Right then and there, I already sized them up; she was the one wearing the pants in the marriage and he would do whatever she’d tell him to do. She’d given me side eyes all night long and even said nastily that she used to be my size and how she’d wish she could get back down to my size again. She resembled Mo’Nique and even had her attitude, that skinny women were evil. I made sure to stay away from his wife that night, even though he kept talking to me.

He was dark skinned, well dressed, slightly nerdy, wore dreads that hung slightly past his shoulders and was in the process of losing weight. He’d been with the company for 5 or 6 years, myself, 9 years. Like I said before, he was nowhere near my type, but something about him that night turned me on.

I didn’t know if he was checking me out at the party, but I knew for sure that he was very unhappy being with her. She’d dominate the conversations, ask him to get her some water or another beer, even made him walk with her to the bathroom! I’m surprised she didn’t ask him to come inside the ladies room and ask him to wipe her ass, but I digress.

After the party I opted to take a cab alone, rather than share it with them. They lived way uptown, almost close to the Bronx, while I was practically in the middle of Harlem. Even though he insisted on paying my way, I told him no.
"Well, get home safe," he said.
"Thanks," I said.
She said nothing. Bitch.

Fast forward to a few months later, my line rang at work.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it’s me," he said.
"Hi. What can I do for you?"
"Well, I was wondering if you’ve been to this new spot called Body?"
Body was an upscale lounge where all the A-list celebs and athletes came to be seen. You had to be dressed to impress or you weren’t getting in at all.
"Oh, yes, I’ve been there a few times."
"I wanted to know if you would like to go with me?"
I had to think about this one. Was his jealous, insecure, bossy wife going to be with him? If she was going, I wasn’t going.
"Well, I don’t know."
"She’s not going to come with me," he said.
"Huh?" How did he know I was going to ask him that?
"So are we going or not? I’m curious to see how you dance on the dance floor."
Yeah, he was curious, all right……..

Saturday night and I stood in line waiting patiently for him. I was wearing a dress that looked painted on with some 4-inch heels. The flyer called for upscale attire and I looked the part.
He showed up ten minutes later and I had to do a double take. He wasn’t wearing glasses, he had on a really nice suit and when I went to hug him, he smelled so good. What was that cologne, I thought? Was it "Unforgivable" by Sean John? Was it CK1? Well, whatever it was, it smelled good and was making my panties wet. Plus, the weight loss had paid off, he was looking slimmer in the face and body.

He offered to take off my coat at coat check and I felt his eyes on me. The way the dress was hugging me along with the peep toe "fuck me" heels, why wouldn’t he? Even security was checking me out as I paid the attendant and waited for my change.

"Umm, you look really good," he managed to say. I know his dick was getting hard at the sight of my slim body in the dress. No need to suck in my stomach or wear Spanx or anything like that.

We made our way to the bar and we both took it in. The lounge was a very sexy atmosphere, dim lights and the right music. Even the drinks were sexy. Drink names like Orgasm, Screaming Orgasm, Tie Me to the Bedpost, who wouldn’t get turned on?

Later on that night, we were tipsy and dancing up a storm in the VIP lounge and then it happened. His hands were all over my body. He was feeling my waist, my ass, my thighs. When I had my back turned, he felt my stomach and admired how flat it was. I felt his hard dick pressed up on my ass when I went to drop down low and sweep the floor with it. It felt big. Who knew a short guy was packing? I was starting to get curious. What would it be like to go to bed with him? But once again, he was a co-worker and married…….and I couldn’t think those thoughts about him.

We shared a cab and as the driver dropped me off at my house, he looked at me with those bedroom eyes.
"Are you gonna give me some sugar?" he said, his hand on my thigh.
I gave him a peck on the cheek.
"No, that’s not the sugar I want," he said and leaned in and kissed me on the lips, slipped me the tongue. He kissed me with such a passion I thought I would never feel and I was feeling this shit. Meanwhile, the cab meter was running.
The cab driver said, "Hello? Are you leaving?" He had the nerve to get impatient and rightfully so, because time was money.
"Yeah, I’m leaving," I said, realizing that I had to go. I put myself together and got ready to exit the cab.
"You can’t leave," the co-worker said, pulling me back in.
"Why not?" I said.
"Because the night is not over." Even though it was 4AM. He took my hand and placed it on his hard dick. "Aren’t you curious about me the way I am about you?"
You know the R. Kelly song, my mind was telling me no, but my body was screaming yes.

"But what about your wife?"

He told the cab driver to take us to Amsterdam Avenue and the shit was going to be on!

We ended up at a hotel and picked up where we left off. He kissed me again and undressed me. I was ready to get out of my "fuck me" heels, but he said, "leave them on."

He sat on the edge of the bed and enjoyed the view. The view being me, long legged, caramel complected, perky breasts, flat stomach and tight ass. Thank God I did a Brazilian wax earlier today, because my punanny was smooth to the touch.

I pushed him down on the bed and got his clothes off. Dayum, he was packing! He had to be at least 7 or 8 inches! The dick stood at full attention and I had to suck on him.
I sucked and jacked him off and I could hear him grunting and groaning. I licked his shaft up and down and teased the tip of his dick with the tip of my tongue. The precum was oozing out of the tip and I licked every single drop of him. I don’t know if he wasn’t getting any head at home or getting any at all or if her performance was lackluster, because when I looked up, his eyes rolled in the back of his head, as if he were possessed.
"Oooh shit, right there!" he moaned. "I’m about to cum!"
"No, you can’t cum yet," I said. "I want to take a ride on your pole."
"I need to cum NOW!"
"Fine, have it your way," I said. I jacked him off until I heard this animal noise coming from him that you wouldn’t believe. The cum shot out like hot lava from a volcano!
I tasted his cum and he tasted soooo yummy. He must have ate some pineapples, some protein or something, because that was the best cum I’ve ever tasted.
But I have yet to ride his pole, so I sucked on him again to get him hard.
"Oooh, girl, what are you doing to me?" he moaned.
I wouldn’t stop until he was hard. I grabbed the condom that was on the bed, put it on him. I slowly sat on his dick until it was so deep inside of me. He and I were both in heaven as I rode him slow, taking every inch of his dick inside of me.

"This my dick, right?" I whispered. He said nothing, so I raised up off of his dick.

"I said, is this my dick?"

"Yes," he whimpered.

"I can get it when I want it, right?"

"Yesssss," he hissed, and I rode him until we both came and passed out.

True to his word, his dick belonged to me for like a few months. He craved my tight pussy after that night. Even though we were in different departments, we had to be extra careful with the conversations, text messages and where we met for our "fuck sessions". The work week was always shitty, but the nights and sometimes the weekends were always interesting.

I got a phone call at my house late one night. Some woman screaming in my ear about someone screwing her husband.

"Bitch, I know you're fucking my husband!" It was her.

"Well, if that's your husband, he wasn't last night." Click.