Message-ID: <3732eli$9709051112@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Alex Taylor Douglas Subject: The Betrayal, Part II Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <199709050305.VAA19453@shaman.lycaeum.org> THE BETRAYAL by Alex Taylor Douglas PART II Our story continues, the tension builds, and all that stuff... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Alex plays hockey on a team in the winter, and a lot of the guys from the hockey team form a softball team in the summer. Alex and Eric are two guys who play on both teams. Since hockey is a much more physical sport than softball, gatherings of players and spousal equivalents after hockey games were not very common because usually the players were tired. What never did change was the way all the spousal equivalents sat together in the stands and at the diamond. There was a lot more chatter and gossip between us than there was attention paid to the sporting action and a constant source of gossip and chatter was Eric. He was single, and simply gorgeous. He is one of the best players at either sport, a natural athlete. He has dark hair and is about the same height as Alex but where Alex is fit, Eric is built. I'm not sure if he works out but I can only assume he does. He has wide shoulders, narrow waist, and a perfect ass. He's not really muscular, but he always gives the impression of strength and confidence. He really is a good looking guy and I'm sure he knows it. I've actually known Eric longer than any of the other wives and girlfriends. He attended the same college as my husband but studied a different discipline. They were introduced by a mutual friend and quickly became quite good friends in their own right. Alex was the one who got Eric onto the hockey team. He's been to our house a number of times for supper or drinks and never shown the slightest interest other than that of a friend. We've always been able to carry on good conversations although we never got into any real serious discussions. More like general party-type small talk. Still, he was always nice to all of the women. I know several of the girls had a crush on him and I'm sure one of them tried to get him into bed, but I don't think she succeeded. Eric-watching, as we called it, always hit a peak in the summer. We could watch him play softball forever, dressed in shorts and a tank top, slightly bent over in a crouch. There was always a much better opportunity for mingling and talking after baseball games because nine times out of ten both teams would head to the nearest neighborhood pub for a few drinks, darts, and pool. It became a running joke among the men and all of them, including Alex, harassed their wives or girlfriends about the amount of attention they gave Eric. None of the guys seemed upset about it, only amused. Eric seemed to like the attention but he was ever so nice, never vulgar, and always a proper gentleman. The only clue I ever got from Eric before that fateful day was the evening of the first game of the softball season. The boys had won, Eric hitting in the winning two runs in the bottom of the seventh inning in classic heroic fashion. Everyone made their way to the pub and the guys on the team each had to buy Eric a tequila shooter as a victory gift. Eric got quite drunk. He tried to remain as elegant as ever but that is extremely hard to do with a body full of tequila. I know, that's why I've developed a taste for white wine over the last few years. Eric left his car at the pub and rode as far as our house with the intention of calling a cab once he got there. When we got to our place I offered him a cup of coffee, which he quickly accepted. Alex went up to have a shower leaving me alone in the kitchen with Eric. No big deal, but as I puttered about getting coffee I could feel Eric's eyes on me. That was no big deal either. In fact after months of neglect it felt nice to be appreciated by a good-looking guy. I served Eric a cup of coffee and turned to find something to snack on, and I knew he was still watching me. I guess I started to flirt a bit, standing on my tiptoes to look on a shelf even though I didn't have to, bending over sort of in front of him so he could almost look down my t-shirt, that kind of thing. After a couple of minutes I glanced at him, sitting on a bar stool at the kitchen nook. "Everything alright?" I asked. "Perfect," he replied with a bit of a smile. He was starting to sober up a bit by that time and started to develop a headache so I rummaged around in my purse until I found him some Tylenol. Then I did something very uncharacteristic, strictly an impulsive act; I began to massage his shoulders. It wasn't a light rub or caress, or anything born of desire, but an effort to try and help his headache. He gave a little groan as I hit a particularly stiff muscle and gradually he began to lean back until the back of his head rested against my collarbone just under my chin. I could feel the warmth of his neck along the sides of my breasts. My body began to betray me and I felt myself becoming slightly flushed. I could feel my nipples becoming erect and a flutter in the pit of my stomach. His shoulders felt so strong, and it had been so long since... I snapped my eyes open. What on earth was I doing? I made myself stop and turn away from him, in case he saw the condition I was in. "How's that?" I managed to ask, surprised at how even my voice was. "Great. Thanks Deb, you're a good friend." Neither his face nor his voice gave any indication he was thinking anything like I was sure he was thinking. He seemed honestly grateful for the massage, and I felt a little silly. A woman my age acting like a sixteen year old. I smiled to myself and shook my head slightly. "What's so funny?" he asked. "Something I said?" "No," I replied. "It's just that..." I didn't get a chance to finish as Alex came into the kitchen. " Coffee. Great!" exclaimed Alex as he went to get a mug. "Hey, buddy how're you feeling? Deb take good care of you?" he asked Eric. I felt my stomach jump a little, but again realized how silly I was being. Maybe it was a full moon or something. Alex went on to offer Eric the guest bedroom for the evening, saying how much easier it would be to pick up his car the next day. Eric hesitated a little, looked at me kind of funny, and then declined. We called a taxi for him and told him to call the next day when he got up. I was more aroused than I had been in a long time and felt almost desperate for sex. Alex was wearing his bathrobe so it was an easy trick to reach under and grasp his penis and try to kiss him at the same time. I wanted him there on the kitchen floor, and I wanted him right then! To my shock and disappointment, he pulled away and said he was tired and wanted to go to bed. I was surprised and hurt. I went upstairs to take a bath and for the first time in a long while I masturbated. I lay in the hot soapy water for a long time, running my hands over my breasts and gently squeezing my hard nipples. I massaged my clitoris until I was almost at the edge and then pulled the plug in the tub, turned on the water as hot as I could stand on my pussy, and lay with my legs wide open with water cascading over my vagina until I hit the peak. As an orgasm swept through my body in shuddering waves it wasn't my husband I was picturing in my mind's eye. It was Eric. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Well well, once the little woman gets a bottle of California White Zinfandel in her she positively opens up. She gets better as she goes, too - really warming to the subject, as it were. Speaking of wine, there's a few things I want to mention at this point. I've always suspected my wife was a tigress hiding within kitten's fur. Over the ten years I've known her she's had the occasion to get a little tipsy now and then. Deb is *much* friendlier and way less inhibited once she's had a few drinks, and our most memorable sex (the times where I've basically been able to do what I want to her) have been where she's been drunk, or close to it. A friend of mine once called alchohol "truth serum" and I have seen proof of that many times. Anyway, the fact that her narrative gets hotter as she goes sort of shows how alchohol affects her. I met Eric through a now-dead friend of mine while I was in school, and we grew to be good friends, meeting for lunch almost every day for several weeks after Jake pulled his own plug. We used to go out quite often together when Deb was on night shift and several times dragged a couple of chicks back to his place for fun and frivolity. At first Eric was shocked that I would cheat on Deb so openly and so often, especially since we had only been recently married. I think when the seed was first planted in his mind was when he asked me how I would feel if the shoe was on the other foot and it was Deb doing the cheating. I told him I loved the idea, especially if I could watch. He laughed at first until he realized I wasn't joking, and then gave me kind of an appraising look and said "You're wierd, man." Since then I've tried to give Eric every opportunity to see Deb in a bathing suit, and I'm sure once he saw her in her underwear without her knowing but he never said anything to me about it. I've discussed our sex with Eric lots of times and described her body in great detail. Once when we were at the local beach with a few other friends Eric and I watched from shore as Deb waded out of the water after a cooling dip. I told him to look at her, pointed out her erect nipples, and he could only nod and stare. He shifted his position fairly quickly, so I'm sure watching Debbie gave him a hard-on. The two of them developed an easy manner between them which I fostered as much as I could - Eric's been over for supper or to watch a movie many times. The biggest point I want to make about Eric is that he is sure God put him on the Earth to fuck every female on the planet, and I swear he's well on the way to doing it. He is an extremely gifted athlete, intoo hockey, baseball, lacrosse,mountain-biking, skiing (both types), tennis, and basically anything else. He is also a thrill-seeker. He has sky-dived over a hundred times and owns a fast sports car, and is currently saving his money for a mountain- climbing trip to somewhere in Europe. Everything he does, though, is to attract women. All the athletics, the working out, the friendly non- threatening manner he has so carefully cultivated, it's all to get girls. He's very successful - I know of two wives and two girlfriends of guys on the ball team that he's fucked, one of them on several different occasions. They've *all* made the first move as well, and not the other way around. Still, I guessed that if I could subtly plant some ideas in Eric's head, in the right situation he would take advantage of Deborah's vulnerability. Read on... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Eric called the next day, a Saturday, at about noon. I really didn't trust myself at this point so I intended to create an excuse that would prevent me from going with Alex to pick up Eric and his car. But, Alex told me he was going to go with Eric to look at some stereo equipment and wanted me to come along to bring the car home. What could I say? I couldn't think fast enough to come up with a good reason for not doing it so I dumbly nodded my agreement. I could only hope that the electricity that apparently existed between Eric and I the evening before was gone, a product of a unique situation. After all it had never existed before as far as I was aware, at least not on a conscious level. No such luck. As Eric strode out to the car the only thing I could think of was the orgasm I had had the night before, while thinking about Eric. My pussy immediately dampened and my breath quickened. I could only manage a brief "Hi" when Eric got into the back seat. Was it my imagination or was there something in his eyes other than friendship? God, I didn't want this! What did I do to cause this? I tried to think about anything other than Eric or sex, with little success. We finally reached the pub, and Alex and Eric got of our car, said goodbye, and left. Thank God! What was wrong with me?! I was in such a rush to get home I was amazed I didn't get a ticket as I sped along the freeway. I didn't bother pulling into the garage, or even locking the car door. I burst through the front door as fast as I could, ran upstairs, threw myself on the bed and once more began masturbating wildly. I didn't take off my jeans. I just undid the button, slipped my hand inside under the waistband of my panties and began rubbing my clit as fast as I could. It didn't take long for another big orgasm to crash through my body. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't even remember the last time I had masturbated before last night, and now I'd done it twice in fourteen hours. I hadn't lost self-control like this in years. I honestly didn't know what to do. Then the weekend was over, and by Tuesday I was back into the work routine, events of a few days before more or less behind me. I hadn't had another "attack" since Saturday and I was beginning to think that I was the victim of tides, or hormones, or some other arcane reason that men use to justify a woman's "irrational" behavior. Whatever, it was a relief to be back in control again. Thursday evening after supper the softball team was having sort of a "practice", which in fact was just a flimsy excuse for the guys to get together for beers. Alex invited me along, and even though I felt a few butterflies about seeing Eric I felt OK about going. Besides, I had to work the weekend and it was probably going to be my only opportunity to get out until the following weekend. So, away we went. Big mistake. I couldn't take my eyes off Eric. Mind you, neither could the other spouses, as usual, but for me this time it felt different. Eric actually looked back at me quite often, as if to see if I were still watching him. In the past he may have tossed a ball at me, or shouted or waved, but now he seemed to less of a friend and more of something else. After the short practice we went over to the pub. Again I knew I should just go straight home but I couldn't think of a good excuse. In retrospect maybe I really didn't want to go home; maybe I secretly wanted something to happen. I really don't know. The air conditioning must have been turned up a little more than usual because I began to get chills as soon as I walked in. Mind you, I was only wearing a short pair of cutoffs and a muscle shirt over my underwear because it was a warm evening. When I'm chilled my nipples become quite erect and unfortunately I wasn't wearing the proper clothing to hide that kind of physiological reaction. Alex noticed immediately and gave me a leering smile that embarrassed me. I turned away and almost walked right into Eric. He reached out and caught me by my bare shoulders to keep from running into him and the heat from his hands on my cool skin caused my nipples to harden even more, painfully even. "Whoa, careful Deb!" he said. We locked eyes momentarily before he swept his gaze quickly across my chest. For the first time since I met him I knew, I mean I really knew, that he was looking at me with desire in his eyes. I wasn't his friend's wife at that moment, just a woman who probably had the same look in her eyes. Again I felt the now-familiar warm wetness in the crotch of my panties and I began to tremble slightly, not just from the cold. "Man, you're freezing!" he exclaimed. "Go sit down and I'll run out and grab you a sweatshirt from my car, OK? It's not dirty, I only wore it for about an hour last night." He left and I sat down in a chair at one of the three tables that had been pushed together. He came back about a minute later with a white sweatshirt that was nice and toasty warm from sitting on the front seat of his car. I put it on and immediately began to warm up. As grateful as I was for the warmth the smell of him on his sweatshirt did absolutely nothing for the state I was in. I could smell his cologne, his shampoo, his soap, and it was with me all the time, masculine and intensely attractive. The wetness in my panties increased until I was sure it would show through my cutoffs, making me afraid to stand up. Lord, I didn't even know if I *could* stand. There was no longer any doubt; I wanted him. After a while Eric came and sat down beside me. The slight smell of his sweat from the practice mingled with the smells on the shirt, and a little voice inside me begged him to go away. "What's up, Deb?" he asked. "You don't seem to be your usual self tonight. Something wrong?" The last question asked with a slightly raised eyebrow. "I - I'm not sure," I stammered. "I think I might be coming down with something." "Geez, nothing serious, I hope. I'm sure you'll feel better soon, though." What did he mean by that? He sat there beside me for a minute, not saying anything, watching a game of darts. Then I became aware of a small pressure against my outer thigh, skin almost as cool as mine. He didn't look at me or say anything, and then the pressure increased slightly. I responded by slightly rubbing my leg up and down against his, heart racing. This was going too far! Then a new touch, the back of his hand, knuckles lightly caressing the top of my thigh near the leg of my cutoffs! I should have stopped him but I didn't, I couldn't. God, I had never felt this way, not even the best times with Alex. His hand turned over and the caress continued with his fingertips, this time over the top of my leg to the inside of my thigh and I had to stifle a moan less the others at the table notice what was happening. Suddenly a call. "Hey Eric, you're up!" It was Jim, one of the guys from the softball team over by the pool table, holding up a cue. "Gotta go, Debs," he said with a smile. "Hope you're feeling better." He stood up and walked over to a group of guys. Soaked crotch or not, I had to get out of there. I walked over to the bar where Alex was conversing with someone I didn't know. "Honey, I'm not feeling very well. Can we leave soon?" I pleaded. "Sure, babe. I was getting ready to go anyway." He said goodbye to the guy he was talking to and then we walked over and said bye to the team and their women. I knew Eric was watching me as I left. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End Of Part II -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /