Take This Seat
Part 2
“Go on.”
Greg glared at me, and didn’t budge from my couch. There wasn’t a shred of love or compassion in his voice. He didn’t even seem hurt or sad. Just angry and hateful, as he sat there, not leaning toward me, his eyes brimming with hate. I felt like at any moment he was going to jump up and strangle me, but I couldn’t stop myself—I was under orders. The worst part, though, wasn’t the anger—Greg had been angry at me before about things—it was the lack of tenderness. Even when he was angry at me before, it was like a moment of anger at someone he loved. This time, he was looking at me like I was a disgusting bug or something.
I felt tears welling up in my eyes, but I couldn’t stop—I was under orders.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Go. On.” He insisted, “Did you take him home and fuck him again or not?”
I nodded. “Yes. I took him home, and he sodomized me again.”
“Bareback?”
“Yeah.”
He shook his head in fury and disbelief, “And that was why you cancelled on me that night?”
“Yeah. After he’d fucked me that first time, I called you and cancelled while he was in the shower.”
“So you didn’t even lose your books? That was a lie too?”
“No! I really did lose my books. I left them at the cafe, because I was too horny and eager to get sodomized some more.”
“Some more? So you kept going?”
I nodded.
“I sucked him off when he got out of the shower. Well, first he spanked me until I cried, then I sucked him off. Then I took a shower and shaved my pussy for him. Then he took my cell phone and took a video of me playing with myself until I came. Then he sodomized me again, got dressed, and left.”
Greg didn’t move at all, just kept glaring.
“But you didn’t lose your cell phone,” he said, correcting me. I wanted him to tell me how he felt or something, but Greg seemed insistent on getting every detail right. He was like that when he was furious.
“No. He didn’t keep it. We uploaded all the pictures onto the web, and the video too.”
“We? Did he upload them or did you?”
“Both. We sat on the couch—I sat in his lap with the laptop on my lap—and we uploaded them. I did most of the uploading, but then I looked away and let him type in the passwords.”
“When did that happen?”
“After he got dressed.”
“After the third time he fucked you?”
“Yeah. Well, the third time he fucked my ass.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he fucked my mouth that night once too.”
“That night?” he said, nostrils flaring.
“I was about to get to that. The next Wednesday, he came over —”
“Wait. Stop. Before you go on to the next time you cheated on me and fucked this guy, whose fucking name you didn’t even know, and put your own health at risk as well as mine, and betrayed everything you ever believed in and everything you ever promised me. Before you tell me the next part, did you do anything else with this guy that night?”
“That night? No, not really. We made out some while I was on his lap. And, uh, we got Chinese food.”
“When did you have Chinese food?”
“He ordered it while I was in the shower. We had it right after I came from playing with myself.”
“Did you cuddle while eating Chinese food?”
“Yes.” Greg and I often cuddled and had Chinese food after sex. He knew how much I liked that.
“From Meng’s?”
“Sex.”
“In bed?”
“No. On the couch.”
“This couch? The one where I’m sitting?”
“Yes.”
“That’s where you let him fuck you up the ass? Right in this spot.”
“Yes,” I said, involuntarily shivering.
He inhaled, then exhaled heavily. His face was red.
“Okay. Go on. The next Wednesday. Same thing?”
“No.”
“He didn’t fuck you the next Wednesday?”
“No.”
“This was last Wednesday?”
“The Wednesday before that.”
“How many times did you see this guy?”
“Four.”
“And you fucked him every time?” he asked, his tone cold.
“No.”
“Did you cut things off with him?”
I looked away, “I wanted to.”
“That’s nice. Did you actually do it?”
“No. Every time I saw him, I did everything he wanted and then made plans to see him again.”
His jaw clenched. I think he realized, then—that I had plans to see this guy again.
“And you never learned his name?”
“No. Eventually he learned mine. And got my phone number and email address and so on.”
“Go back. The next Wednesday, what did you do? Walk in the park and hold hands? Go to our favorite restaurants?”
“I cooked him dinner.”
“What did you cook?”
“Canneloni.” My best dish. I make a really good canneloni.
“In the kitchen?”
“Yes.”
“And nothing sexual happened?”
I looked down at the floor, pouty and silent.
“Answer me. Nothing sexual happened?”
“He didn’t fuck me that time.”
“But you did other things,” he said, voice heavy with accusation.
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
“I answered the door naked.”
“That’s all?”
“No. I cooked for him naked too.”
“Was he naked too?”
“Not when I cooked, no.”
“And you ate with him naked?”
“No. He ate the food, fully clothed. I didn’t eat. I danced for him and then played with myself while he ate.”
His eyes darted down to my breasts when I told him that. I pushed them out a little bit, trying to pose attractively. If he was getting turned on by this a little, maybe he’d be less angry.
“Did you come?”
“Not that time.”
“Were you embarrassed?”
“Yes.”
“Were you scared?”
“Kind of. Not really scared, mostly embarrassed.”
“And turned on?”
“Yes,” I said, sliding my legs against each other. I was getting turned on again just remembering it.
“But you didn’t have an orgasm that time?”
I shook my head.
“Why not?” he asked. “In the back of your mind, did you know it was wrong?”
“No. I mean, yes, but that’s not why I didn’t come. He told me I wasn’t allowed to come. Every time I got close, I stopped masturbating and went back to dancing.”
“Then what?”
“What?”
“You played with yourself for him while he ate. Then what?”
“Then I gave him a blowjob.”
“Where?”
“On the couch again.”
He shook his head in disbelief.
“Did he come in your mouth?”
“Yes.”
“Did you swallow it?”
“Yes.” I rarely swallowed with Greg.
“And then he left?”
“No. I went and did the dishes. He got on my laptop and uploaded the video again.”
“Again?”
“He took another video of me dancing and masturbating.”
“And that was it that night?”
“No. I got back from the kitchen and gave him a second blowjob. Well, I sat on his lap and made out with him a little while, then he sucked on my nipples, then I gave him a blowjob.”
“But you didn’t fuck.”
“I begged him to, but he said no. He said he’d fuck me the next time, but that he wanted to see me get really horny and frustrated first.”
“And then you gave him a blowjob.”
“Yes.”
“Two that night?”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t come at all?”
“Right.”
“And you haven’t come since?”
“No. I mean, I have come since. Just not until our third... encounter.”
“Were you going to say date?” Greg asked, furiously.
“I don’t know.”
“So, wait, after the second blowjob, did he leave?”
“No.”
“What did you do?”
“We made plans to see each other again the next Sunday night, and then we watched a movie.”
“What movie?”
“My Neighbor Totoro.”
“The copy that I gave you?” he asked in angry disbelief. He was now openly staring at my breasts. I pushed out my chest a little more, but not too dramatically.
“Yes. He hadn’t seen it before.”
“On this couch?”
“Yes.”
“Wait a second. So that Saturday we had dinner and you said you were stressed out and not in the mood. You already had plans to see him again?”
I looked down and nodded.
“And you were actually incredibly horny?”
“Incredibly. The whole time we were sitting at dinner, I wanted to crawl under the table and suck you off. When you got up to use the bathroom, I fantasized about following you into the bathroom and begging you to sodomize me, bareback. I wanted you so badly that night, Greg.”
I leaned in toward him a little, to show off a little more cleavage, but he just looked disgusted.
“Because I was around, and you were horny from your encounter with this guy that you were cheating on me with, who you fucked the next night.”
I squeaked and nodded.
“Did you do anything else that Wednesday night?”
“What do you mean?”
“You watched a movie and he left?”
“Pretty much.”
“Pretty much?”
“Well, I mean, I sat on his lap, and I was cold because I was still naked, so I asked if I could put clothes on, and he said no, but that I could get a blanket. And, yeah, he petted me during the movie.”
“Like a dog?”
“I guess.”
“No, what do you mean?”
“You know, little petting things. Like he’d run a hand through my hair, or run a finger along the rim of my ear, or, like, touch my lower back or something.”
“And you liked it?”
“Yes.”
“Then he left?”
“Yes.”
“And that was it that Wednesday night?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do Sunday?”
“We went to a bar and talked.”
“But he fucked you?”
“Yes.”
“So you went home?”
“No, in the parking lot. While people watched.”
“Who?”
“Just people. Strangers.”
“Wait, I still don’t understand this. Why were you doing all this? Were you just trying to hurt me?”
“No. It’s not like that Greg, I promise. I love you. It’s just —”
“You’re trying to get back at me for something?”
“No. He just—”
“Are you unsatisfied with me, Erica? With us?”
“Not really,” I said, “I mean, that’s not why.”
“Then why did you start having this fucked-up affair with this total stranger?”
I whimpered and felt myself crying.
“No.” he said angrily, “You don’t get to have a scene and play for sympathy. You decided to cheat on me, you decided to fuck this random stranger, and you decided to tell me about it. So fucking tell me about it. Why?”
“I... I don’t really understand it. He’s got a remote control.”
“What?” Greg said. His expression finally changed, for once. He didn’t look furious for that blessed instance, just really puzzled.
“Like a garage door opener or something. Every time we got together, he’d point it at me and click it. And then suddenly I’d be really horny, and really want anal sex, and really submissive, but just to him.”
“Submissive?”
“Yeah. Like I called him sir. And like I did whatever he said.”
“Did he tell you not to have sex with me that Saturday?”
“Yes.”
“Did he tell you not to have sex with me at all?”
“No. I’m getting to that.”
“Oh, so sorry,” he said sarcastically, “How rude of me. Please, do continue.”
“That was about it for Wednesday.”
“No, Sunday, remember? The night after you turned me down and lied to me. You went to a bar and talked?”
“Yeah.”
“Which bar?”
“A sports bar. I don’t remember the name.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Everything. My life, I guess. Nothing about him.”
“Did you talk about me?”
“Yes. I told him that I loved you and I hated cheating on you.”
“Did you say anything bad about me?”
I looked down. “I guess.”
“What?”
“He asked for sexual details. So I told him about our sex life.”
“Oh, fuck you. The bad thing about me is our sex life?”
“No, not like that! It’s just—”
“You just said that—”
“I loved our sex life!” I said, embarrassed to be using the past tense, “He asked if you make me come the way he does, and I said no.”
He clenched his jaw, and his expression got colder. “Fine. What else did you talk about?”
“Everything. My dad, and about school, and my friends. But mostly about my sex life.”
“Besides me, you talked about sex?”
“Yes.”
“So you’ve cheated on me before this,” he said, a plain accusation.
“No!”
“Don’t get defensive. It’s not like it’s beyond you.”
“I meant, you know, like my fantasies, and who I had crushes on, and things like that.”
“And then he took you to the parking lot and fucked you?”
“He told me to go to the bathroom and strip, and then walk out to the parking lot and meet me there.”
“So you walked through the sports bar naked?”
“Yes.”
“Were people there?”
“Yes. A few dozen.”
“What did they do?”
“They stared, and then one of them hooted and I smiled at him. Then some of them followed me out.”
“And this guy was there?”
“Yeah, he was at my car.”
“And that’s where you fucked him?”
“Yes. He told everyone they could watch, and then he bent me over the hood of my car and fucked me.”
“Then what?”
“Well, he came inside me, but I was still horny, because what I really wanted was to be sodomized.”
“Did he use a condom?”
“No, he never uses condoms.”
“How do you know you’re not pregnant, then?”
“I went to Planned Parenthood and got a morning after pill.”
He sighed heavily, “That’s still really risky.”
“I know,” I said, ashamed.
“Then what?”
“What?”
“After you let him impregnate you. Or potentially. Then what?”
“Then I begged him to sodomize me. But instead he looked out to the crowd and offered for me to give a blowjob to anyone who had a condom.”
“I thought he didn’t use condoms.”
“No, for them to wear, while I was giving a blowjob.”
“And did someone?”
“Yeah, two people.”
“And you sucked them both off?”
I nodded.
“Then what?”
“Well, by then, everyone had pretty much left. Someone brought me my clothes from the bar bathroom, but he told me not to put them on. And he took me to the alley behind the bar and sodomized me.”
“What?”
“Like, up against the wall.”
“And you finally had an orgasm, then?”
“No. I mean, yeah, I had a few orgasms then, but I also came when he fucked me over the hood of the car. And he had me masturbate and come while I was sucking off Mike and Mike.”
“Mike and Mike?”
“The two guys who had condoms were both named Mike.”
“Did they know each other?”
“No, it was a coincidence.”
“And everyone left by then?”
“I think it was getting to be more awkward and less of a spectacle by then.”
“Yeah, I’m getting disgusted just hearing about it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“No, I mean—”
“Shut up,” he said coldly, “Then what? Then what did you do with him next?”
“He walked me to my car, let me get dressed, and kissed me goodnight.”
“That’s all?”
“Well, we made plans to see each other again.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
He closed his eyes, sighed, and opened them.
“Okay. And what did you do?”
“We went dancing.”
“Where?”
“The Glass Dome.”
“Why the Glass Dome? You hate that place.”
“Carrie picked it.”
“Carrie met him?”
I looked down. “Yeah, she came along.”
“So Carrie knows about this?”
I blushed and looked away.
“What?” he demanded.
“Carrie and I slept together last night, too.”
“With this guy?”
“Not exactly.”
“Explain yourself.”
“Okay,” I said, shaking a little. This was the last date story, and I was kind of dreading what would come next.
“Go on.”
“So, at the bar, he said he wanted me to invite Carrie dancing some place where she would like to go. And to meet us there.”
“So you went to the Glass Dome.”
“Yes.”
“And this guy met you there?”
“Yes.”
“Was he dressed up like a goth, then?”
“No, he was dressed like he always does.”
“Like a construction worker or something.”
“Yes.”
“But you and Carrie were all slutted up?”
I couldn’t really deny that.
“We were dressed up in clubbing clothes, yeah.”
“What did Carrie think of him?”
“I don’t know.”
“But she was okay with you cheating on me?”
I stayed quiet.
“What? If you don’t want to tell the whole story, you shouldn’t have asked me to listen to the whole story.”
“He used the remote control on her, too.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“So, what? He took you home and had a threesome?”
“No.”
“He didn’t go home with you?”
“No, it was just me and Carrie.”
“But you fucked.”
“Yes.”
“You and him, or you and Carrie? Or him and Carrie?”
“Everything.”
“But not a threesome?”
“No. I mean, at the dance club, he watched us dance. Then he pulled her away and sodomized her, and I just danced and got really horny. Then he came back and took me off and left Carrie to dance.”
“Where did he take you?”
“The parking structure around the corner.”
“Same place he took Carrie?”
“Yeah.”
“Wait, how did he know about Carrie?”
“At the bar. He asked about people I’d fantasized about.”
“And you’ve fantasized about Carrie?”
I felt myself blushing furiously, and I nodded.
“Why didn’t you ever mention that to me?” Greg asked.
“Because I know you think she’s hot, and if we’d had a threesome with her, I would have gotten jealous.”
“But not with this guy.”
I felt tears falling down my cheeks.
“I don’t know,” I said inertly.
“What did you do there in the parking lot.”
“The same as in the cafe the first time.”
“Up the butt?”
“Yeah. I mean, but he took pictures first, and I did a strip tease for him. Then I got him hard with my mouth. Then he bent me over some car, and got lubed up on my pussy while I begged him to fuck my ass. Then he did.”
“Did he do the same with Carrie?”
“I don’t know. I think so. Probably, yes. Or close to it.”
“Then what?”
“Then I got dressed again, and he put an envelope in my pocket and told me to dance with Carrie for another half hour, and make out with her, and then follow the instructions in the envelope.”
“And what did the envelope say?” he asked. There was no need to ask if I followed the instructions, at this point.
“To go back to my place with Carrie, and fuck each other, and take a video of it, and post it.”
“On the same site?”
“No, I don’t have the password to that site.”
“So, where?”
“My regular twitter account.”
“So, what, now everyone you know can watch a porn of you and Carrie fucking?”
“Yeah.”
“And you never thought to mention that?”
“It’s.... well, that’s not all the instructions said.”
“Okay, so, wait, what did you and Carrie do?”
“Everything, pretty much.”
“What does that mean?”
“Uh, we made out and stripped, and I sucked on her tits, and then we fingered each other, and then I went down on her, and then she went down on me. And then I spanked her, and fingered her ass, because she still wanted to be sodomized some more. Then Carrie went down on me again, but with a finger in my ass this time. Then I fisted her. Then we took a shower, and rubbed each other’s clits in the shower so we came again, and then we went to sleep cuddling. And then in the morning we went down on each other again, and then uploaded the video, and then said goodbye.”
“And it’s all on video?”
“Well, most of it. The shower stuff isn’t, because we weren’t expecting that.”
“And you came?”
“Six times.”
“How many times did Carrie come?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t ask specifically. At least three.”
“I guess I can watch the video myself if I really want to know. And that was it?”
I shook my head and shifted uncomfortably.
“Did you make plans to see each other again?”
“They were in the instructions.”
“Show them to me.”
“What?”
“The instructions. Show them.”
“I can’t. He told me not to.”
“Fucking show them to me!”
I got quiet. He stood up quickly, glaring at me.
“Show me!”
“I can’t.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“The instructions told me to tell you everything about everything, and answer any questions you had, and tell you all the details.”
“Is that why you’re telling me? Because he made you?”
I nodded.
“And that’s the whole story?”
I looked up at him, “I’m breaking up with you.”
“Like hell you are,” Greg said, “I’m so fucking through with you, I can’t bear to look at you. Are you going to keep fucking this random old man whose name you don’t even know? He’s probably married.”
I hadn’t even thought of that.
“I don’t know,” I said, “But he told me to break up with you.”
“Good riddance,” Greg said.
“Do you want to fuck me before you leave?” I asked him, pushing my tits out.
“Excuse me?” he said.
“Do you want to fuck me before you go?” I said.
“Did he tell you to offer?”
“Yes.”
“Carrie too?”
“No, just me.”
I stood up and pulled off my dress. I wasn’t wearing any underwear or bra, so there I was, suddenly naked. His eyes darted down to my cunt: it was shaved for the first time, and he’d never seen it like that.
“You can do anything you want to me. Fuck my mouth, or my pussy, or my asshole. You can spank me or slap me around. Get your anger out on me. You have every right to. Bareback. I’ll do anything you want, and I’ll keep coming like crazy, the way I do with what’s-his-name.”
He looked furious, and disgusted, and tempted.
I stepped closer to him, and pushed my tits up against his chest, and looked up at him with big eyes and a pouty expression. Greg loves it when I do that. I could feel his erection in his pants, and I reached down to start stroking the bulge. I knew he was furious with me, but I could tell by the look on his face that he couldn’t resist my offer.
“Please,” I said to him as he put his hands on my bare shoulders, his expression lusty and aggressive and unforgiving, “Use me. Humiliate me. Anything you want. Get back at me. Do whatever you want to me. Just tonight, to get me out of your system. Please, Greg. Fuck me. Please, take this seat.”