Slut wife has a gang bang in a bar.
"Cecil! Go get the mail!"
It felt like nails and screws being driven into my brain.
"You know how I hate the cold. Go!"
I grumbled in agreement and set off to the main office. I walked slowly through the rain, enjoying it as the cold drops of water splashed on my face and rolled down my gaunt cheeks. I entered the main office and headed straight for the mail room. Reaching my apartment number, I fumbled around in my pocket and found the key. I opened the mailbox and looked inside.
Nothing. Not a goddamned thing. This trip, though rather enjoyable, had been a waste of precious energy.
I looked to the source of the melodious voice. It was Season. I smiled to try and match hers, but Betelgeuse was no match for the shine her smile produced.
"Season," I said warmly. "What's up?"
She walked somewhat aimlessly, her eyes lazily drifting up and down my body, I hope. In a seductive way, not like she was high or anything.
Shit, I hoped for as much.
The only way I could've nailed her would be if I had gotten her intoxicated beyond belief. Needless to say, it was only my poor pathetic imagination. She was probably just looking around the mail room. My eyes darted away from her luscious body to the window. Outside the rain rapped against the window gently, backed by a somber yet inspirational sky. "I just love this weather," I told her.
"Yeah," she agreed. "Its beautiful. No one else likes it. I don't get why."
"Me neither," I shrugged.
Her mailbox was next to mine, so when she came to get her mail I got a big whiff of her. Mmmm, if only that smell could stay in my nostrils indefinitely. So good and feminine.
We both closed our mail box doors simultaneously and stared out the window, side by side. I felt her soft arm brushing against mine, and her hand seemed to be rubbing lightly in total subtlety against mine. Forgetting about Danielle and Phil momentarily, I clasped her hand, and she gripped my hand loosely. We didn't look at each other or even speak, we just share that lovely moment.
After a minute or so, she released my hand and walked away.
"Bye, Cecil," she said lowly. I couldn't even reply. I was still in awe that what had happened had just happened. I couldn't believe that I got to touch her again.
The next afternoon was laundry day. Naturally, Danielle was too much of a lazy ass to do such chores, so I did it myself. I was finishing one load when Season walked in. "Hey, Cecil," she said with an almost sultry tone. I waved weakly as she walked over to the vending machines. She selected an item, purchased it, and sat on the washing machine next to mine. "How're things?" she asked brightly. She looked really hot today; she had really short denim cutoffs and a loose fitting gray shirt that accented her marvelous bust. I tried not to pay too much attention to that, though.
"I'm fine," I told her. "Yourself?"
"Good," she answered. "But you're full of shit."
I arched my eyebrows at her. "You're not fine," she continued. "You've seemed like a sad unsatisfied person since I've met you. What's the deal?"
I sighed. "You really want to know?"
"My wife," I muttered. "I've been celibate for seven months. She never wants to do anything but drink, smoke, and watch TV. I feel so pathetic because all I do is beat off. That's my problem."
This seemed to arouse empathy and disbelief within her. "A good looking guy like you? That doesn't make sense."
I almost blushed like a school girl. "I don't know," I said.
"No, really," Season went on, "when you go that long without sex that you could be having if you really wanted to.."
"Whoa," I interrupted. "You mean I should have an affair?"
She got very coy all of a sudden and backed up. "Well, I'm just saying that you could if you wanted to," she giggled. "Look, I've got to go. See ya."
The way her ass moved as she walked was too damn sexy for reality.