by Cyan
Copyright 2004 by Cyan
All Rights Reserved; No Redistribution.
"You should have gone with them!" said Trish.
In a way I should have expected it. Sometimes Trish just seems to feel an obligation to give me advice on my social life. You'd wonder if she was my mother instead of my wife. But I had reason to feel a bit of amusement at Trish's reaction. "I don't think you quite know what you're suggesting," I said.
Trish smiled. That tolerant smile of hers. "You need time with the boys," she said. "They're your co-workers."
I sighed. While Trish and I got along famously, there was no doubt that she thought I stayed at home too much. I could see her point too, but these guys weren't the right ones for me to hang out with. "I don't think you know them..."
She laughed. "They're guys. It'll do you good."
I wondered how much I'd have to explain to make Trish see. "Do you know what sort of conversation they have when women aren't around?" Trish still had that tolerant smile, looking totally unready to be convinced. "Mostly they talk about Emily," I said. Emily is our receptionist, and a real sport with the guys but certainly not privy to their guy-talk. I figured Trish needed to know the truth. "About what it would feel like if she gave them oral, and how they ought to seduce her into doing it by being, well, firm with her. And how she'd worship their cocks and beg for the privilege to give them more. And how it's what she needs. All this in explicit detail. And liberal use of the C word, to refer to her, as well as any other women they decide to talk about."
I could see I'd finally got Trish thinking, but did feel surprise that I didn't detect the immediate anger I'd expected. "Just man talk," she finally said. "That's just the way guys talk when they're alone. You could stand to loosen up a bit."
I stared, unbelieving. "You think I should talk that way?"
"Well," Trish said, seeming to consider. "It's not admirable talk, but it's just guys doing their bragging. It's what guys do."
Certainly not all guys! I was definitely amazed at Trish. Hadn't I made it clear what sort of things they said? How could Trish let that roll off her back as if it were nothing. "Really," she said. "You could use a little guy influence." And she smiled at me.
Was it a seductive smile? At the very least, it was sly. Suggestive. "Think about it," said Trish. "And go out with them some night."
That night as we were going to bed, Trish suddenly said "Ken!"
I was definitely startled because Trish does not use my name. It's always Honey or just Hon. "Ken, what are you doing?" she said, coming closer, looking me up and down. I was in my underwear. Her voice was strange, pitched higher than her normal speech. And the question sounded as if she were shocked at me or something. "Ken, this is wrong," she said, "and you know it."
Then, abruptly she knelt in front of me. And as I looked down at her, her eyes were on my crotch. "Ken, I know it's wrong, but I just have to have it." She was definitely putting on some sort of act. As soon as she said that, her fingers went to my underpants, pulling them down. Then her lips encircled my cock.
"Mm," she said, making a sound as if she were desperate to be doing more. And it felt good. Still confused, I simply stood there, unable to fathom why Trish would do such an about-face to her usual attitude toward oral sex. She looked up at me, and momentarily removing her mouth, said, "Don't tell the others. And certainly don't tell Trish."
"Trish..." I began, as she resumed sucking. I couldn't believe this.
"Hey!" she said. "Don't use that--don't use her name with me. I'm Emily. God you're good." And she went back to sucking.
Obviously it finally clicked. I stared in wonder. Trish sucked with an enthusiasm that I'd have bet a thousand dollars I'd never see from her. And her effort was having its effect.
And when the time came, she even swallowed. "Don't you ever tell Trish," she finally said, conspiratorially.
* * *
Now it was a little disconcerting to come across Trish at work. It was a few days later, basically at the end of the day, and I was coming back from a run when I found her talking to some of the guys. Laughing, too. And the guys seemed to be flirting a little, though definitely on good behavior compared to the way I'd often seen them. "Hi, Hon," said Trish, grinning. The guys grinned too, almost as if it were all a joke on me.
Just about the same thing happened again later that week, and soon it seemed like Trish was often just hanging around with the guys, joking, during lunch or the end of the day.
And she put on her Emily act again with me, a couple more times. The second time, I was just as startled as the first. Like the first time, she was enthusiastic, kneeling, going to town. Then once when she came up for air, she said, "Hold my head, firmly." I stared at her. "Make me do it. Remember, I love this."
Later at the shop, I realized the conversation tended to stop cold when I walked in on Trish and the guys. A couple of times I noticed she was flushed, almost as if she were turned on.
And once I walked in on Trish talking to Emily. They also stopped talking, but whispered in each others' ears a couple of times as I stood there. Trish was eying me while she said something to Emily before finally greeting me.
"What was that?" I asked as we walked away.
"Girl stuff," Trish answered, but wouldn't elaborate. "By the way," she said, "what do you think of Emily?"
"She's great," I said.
Trish was silent for a moment. "Do you think you'd like the real Emily the way you like the pretend one?"
I looked at Trish as we walked. What was she on to? "I like my wife," I said, firmly.
She laughed. "No, I need a bit of real honesty for a moment," she said. "You're off the hook for this answer, just this once." And as she awaited my reply, I considered how there was no way I'd take that promise seriously. I was no fool. "I bet you'd love her lips wrapped around your cock," she said.
That night she was Emily. "Make me do it!" she pleaded on her knees. "I need you to make me." I was shocked but seduced. "Bobby," she added, just above a whisper.
"What?" I said.
"Make me suck your cock, Bobby." I stared at her. Bobby was one of the guys. Pretty much the crudest of the bunch. "Bobby, I need your cock. Let me suck it, please!" Her pleading was so natural-sounding.
She fingered herself as she finished me. She came, too. Hard.
I ended up sitting on the edge of the bed. She climbed up on me and we ended up falling back. She rolled off me so as to lie on her side facing me. "I love you, Bobby," she whispered. "You can have me as long as you make me suck you."
It was the next day that I really became uncomfortable at work. I noticed Trish's car in the parking lot well before the end of the day, but didn't see her anywhere. Or Bobby either. I casually asked Emily whether Trish had been in, and was careful to watch her closely. And I thought I detected just a tiny look of panic before she calmly stated she had not seen Trish.
I wondered what to do that night as Trish and I ate dinner. She seemed unusually cheerful. "Emily needs an assistant," she finally said. "I'm applying."
"What?" I said.
She grinned. "Just think, you and I will be working together."
My heart beat fast. "Trish, I don't think that's a good idea." She said nothing. "It could be difficult..."
"It'll be great," she said. Then, taking a bite, she casually added, "Listen, I think you should test the waters with Emily."
"Huh?"
"Feel her out," she said. "Just to know if she were truly willing. Aren't you curious?"
"Huh?"
She stood, and coming close, put arms around my neck. Then she bent down and put her lips to my ear. "She sucks cock better than I do," she whispered. "Even when I'm being her."
Cyan Stories
Erotic fiction, sex stories, for erotica lovers.