A Cheating Situation Read online

  Marilyn Lee Unleashed Presents

  A Cheating Situation

  Marilyn Lee

  ©2011 Marilyn Lee

  All rights reserved

  This book is fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously and shouldn’t to be construed as real. All service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their owners and are used for identification only.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book can be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except for brief quotations used in reviews.

  Chapter One

  If you’re a person given to judging other people, I’ll tell you now you’re not going to like me or my story—especially when you realize this happened over the Thanksgiving weekend. But such a reaction is understandable since I didn’t like myself much after that weekend either.

  If you’re a person who realizes the great generosity of women and that men often make indefensible decisions when thinking with their third leg, read on. I’ll share a cautionary tale of how lust can sometimes lead the best intentioned person astray. Read on and you might learn something that will keep you from blowing the best thing that ever happened to you for the sake of raw, unmitigated lust.

  By the time Tasha and I committed to each other, we’d been through so much together that cheating on her was not in my game plan. With her, I felt loved, adored, and completely happy. I had everything any man in his right mind could ever want. I loved my job. Beyond our mortgage and car payments, we had no debt and I honestly loved being her husband. Although she was still a little shy and sometimes hesitant to try new things in bed, she’d rarely said no to sex when I wanted it.

  When I look back, I can’t believe how easily I trampled on everything I held dear by cheating on the best woman I’d ever met. But that’s what I did—even though I felt none of the discontent that often creates the perfect storm and excuse for cheating.

  I guess what I was feeling was a sense of wistful regret for what might have been. No doubt, Tasha was great. In addition to working full time, she was a fantastic homemaker, a good friend, and a sweet lover. But she was no match in bed to Jemma Walters who had never taken any prisoners when it came to pleasing a man—hers or other women’s.

  By some odd stroke of bad luck, Jemma called on the very night that Tasha had left Philly to spend two weeks in Atlanta with her mom who was recovering from major surgery. This was going to be our first Thanksgiving celebrated separately since college. She’d wanted me to accompany her to Atlanta but for some reason I said no—even though I’d always liked her mom.

  Tasha had been worrying about her mom and working a lot of overtime before she left so we hadn’t really had a good fuck in what felt like ages. She never denied me when I was in the mood, but her heart just hadn’t been in it. I was horny as hell and ripe for seduction when I picked up the phone that night on Thanksgiving eve.

  “Hello?” I said, frowning at the name unknown message on the caller I.D.

  “Hello, Jimmy.”

  The moment I heard that sultry voice from my past, I was on a downward trajectory leading straight to her bed. “Jemma?”

  “I’m pleased you remember me.”

  As if any man who had ever been fortunate enough to fuck her could ever forget her. “Yes,” I said, feeling my cock stirring. “I remember you.” And all those wild, hot nights spent fucking ourselves senseless.

  “I’m in town for a few days and I was hoping you and Tasha would have Thanksgiving dinner with me or if you have other plans you can’t break, maybe just lunch or breakfast.”

  “When?”

  “How about tonight?”

  I’d just got home from a long day at work and hadn’t undressed while I tried to decide if I should eat out or warm up some of the meals Tasha and prepared and frozen before she left. She’d stayed up in the wee hours the night before making my Thanksgiving meal so I’d have a home cooked dinner—even if I had it by myself. I’d toyed around with the idea of asking one or two of my single friends over to share it. But all that went out the window at the thought of seeing Jemma again—alone.

  Still, if I hadn’t been thinking with my dick, I would have said no and hung up. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. “Tasha’s out of town.”

  “Leaving you alone on Thanksgiving?”

  “Her mom is recovering from an operation so she’s spending some time with her.”

  “Too bad. I’m here alone. Looks like it’ll just be the two of us for turkey day then. Where would you like to have dinner?”

  We agreed on a restaurant and set our meet time at eight-thirty. You don’t meet that late for Thanksgiving dinner. You do for a drink before hitting the sack.

  “But I can’t make it tonight,” I said, which was my one vain attempt to do the right thing.

  “Tomorrow night then and I’m not taking no for an answer, Jim. I want to spend Thanksgiving with you.”

  “Tomorrow night,” I agreed and hung up.

  It would be good to see her again. Our last meeting, four and a half years ago, had not gone well. Maybe we could mend the rift, and at least become friends. I rationalized that my motive for seeing Jemma again was almost noble—even while I unzipped my pants and massaged my cock as I thought about her.

  That night I dreamed of ripping her clothes off and fucking her senseless. I jacked off in the shower thinking about her when I got up on Thanksgiving morning. After breakfast, I called Tasha in Atlanta.

  We talked for half an hour. I said hi to her parents and then she got back on the phone. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “And to you too, honey,” I said.

  “I love you, Jimmy.”

  “I love you too, baby,” I said. I felt like a heel after I hung up, but I knew that wasn’t going to stop me from spending the night with Jemma. Nothing was going to stop that. Nothing.

  That night as I dressed, I avoided looking at Tasha’s picture on my nightstand.

  The guileless look in her warm, dark eyes made me feel more than a little guilty, even though I told myself there was no reason to feel that way. Jemma and I were old friends. Tasha wouldn’t mind our seeing each other again. After all, the passion we’d once shared was locked securely in the past. Or so I told myself.

  Still, even standing in the bedroom Tasha and I made love in, I couldn’t stop myself from reliving the events that had led up to those hot, sex-filled nights Jemma and I had shared in college…

  I wasn’t exactly a Don Juan in my adolescence. From the time I was twelve until I started working out and my skin cleared up at fifteen, the only girl who would go out with me was Tasha Anderson. Although Tasha had a nice personality, she didn’t really count as a date because we’d been friends since preschool. Although I’d always liked females with dark skin, there wasn’t anything about her plump body and average looking face that gave me wet dreams.

  By the time we graduated, we were so used to each other that we decided to go to the same state college. As freshmen, we both felt pretty out of place amidst the thousands of other students—which meant that we relied on each other more than ever. We became each other’s built-in date for the first two years of school. It was at the first party I went to without Tasha that I met Jemma and fell into instant, insatiable lust.

  It was one of those loud frat parties with too many people crowded into too small a space. I was in paradise; everywhere I looked there were gorgeous girls of every hue and size. But Jemma was the most spectacular of them all with her shoulder-length dark hair bouncing off her beautiful bare, brown shoulders, a round ass, and long, long, slender, shapely legs, revealed by the short, white leather skirt she wore. All my sexual fantasies had centered
on black women and Jemma was the ultimate. Nice sized breasts, flat stomach, and an ass that wouldn’t quit.

  I was prepared to just lean against a wall and stare at her all night, but to my amazement, she broke away from the group of guys hanging around her, waved, and started in my direction.

  I would have looked around but since my back was to the wall and there wasn’t anyone on either side of me, she had to be coming to me. Holy shit.

  “Hi, I’m Jemma Walters.”

  “You are...I mean, I know.” I knew I was stammering like a lovesick puppy, but I couldn’t help it.

  “And who are you, handsome?” she asked, batting her long, beautiful lashes at me.

  I melted like butter in a sizzling frying pan. “I’m James Relihan.”

  “Relihan? You’re Irish?”

  I nodded.

  She gave my dark auburn hair and green eyes a long look before she slipped her arm through mine.

  I shivered at the contact.

  She gave me a sexy smile. “Oh, yes. Your girlfriend is Tasha Somebody.”

  “Anderson,” I said.

  “Yeah. Tasha, the brainy good girl. She’s in my Calculus class. You know, she could almost be pretty if she learned how to use the right makeup and wear the right clothes. Makes you wonder where she got her fashion sense, doesn’t it?”

  Normally, I would have jumped to Tasha’s defense, but I couldn’t think clearly with Jemma so close to me. “She’s not my girlfriend,” I said.

  “Oh? Are you sure about that?”

  “Tasha’s like a sister.”

  Jemma squeezed my arm. “Just a sister? Great. Then maybe you and I can become friends.”

  The way she said it made me know she meant we could be more than friends. The rest of the night was like a fantasy come true. As we danced, she pressed her very well-developed body against mine and reached back to place my hands on her ass. When I gasped, she stood on her toes to press her moist, hot lips against my mouth. One taste of her lips and my cock hardened and all I could think about was fucking her.

  Chapter Two

  After a few drinks, she took my hand and led me to a dark closet. Leaving the door open, she pushed up her skirt and pushed my hand between her legs.

  When my fingers encountered her pussy, slick with juice, I nearly came.

  Sticking her tongue in my mouth, she pushed me against the wall, and stuck her hands in my jeans.

  Although I was vaguely aware of people looking into the closet, once I felt her soft fingers on my cock, I didn’t care. When she had me hard, she jacked me off until I groaned and came. Then she pushed me down to my knees and pressed my mouth against her pussy.

  I gripped her bare ass and ate her pussy until she gushed against my tongue and lips.

  As I rose on shaky legs, applause broke out and I looked around to see a bunch of people of both sexes crowded around the closet. Embarrassed, I tried to stuff my cock back in my jeans.

  Jemma slapped my hands away and closed her fingers around my dick. “Ladies, eat your hearts out—from a distance. This is JBD—Jimmy Big Dick and this big dick is all mine.” She then rubbed the head against her slit before dropping to her knees and wrapping her warm lips around me.

  With the onlookers cheering and calling out sexual remarks, she sucked my cock until I came in her mouth. She swallowed every drop before she rose, shook her beautiful ass at the onlookers and then pushed the door close.

  She leaned up to press her lips against my ear. “Next time, I’m going to give you some of my five-star pussy, Big Dick,” she told me, reaching down to rub my cock against her wet pussy.

  Hell, I was so hot, I came again—all over her pussy.

  There was no going back for me after that. I was hers.

  It was two o’clock in the morning before I went back to the apartment I shared with two other guys. I lay on my bed, fantasizing about Jemma and sliding my cock deep into her pussy until nearly dawn. When I got up at noon the next morning, I showered, had a cup of coffee, and headed over to Tasha’s apartment to tell her about Jemma.

  “She is the hottest girl here. I mean, she looks like a goddess and guess what? She likes me. Imagine that—her liking me!”

  Tasha looked at me with those warm, brown eyes that had seen me through all my bad times. “Hey, Relihan, don’t sell yourself short. All the girls I know are always bugging me to introduce them to you. Why look so surprised, Relihan? Those green eyes of yours and that wavy brown hair that makes a girl want to run her fingers through it, work for you.”

  I stared at her.

  She shrugged. “If you ask me, this Jemma is getting the best of this deal.”

  “Oh but Tasha you haven’t seen Jemma.”

  “Yes. I have. She’s in my Calculus class. She’s very attractive. I’ll give you that, but you are more than a match for her, Relihan.”

  I went around the table and leaned down to kiss her cheek “Thanks for the pep talk, Tasha.”

  She looked up at me with a troubled look on her face. “I’ll always be here for you, Relihan— even though you probably won’t have much time for me now that you’ve gotten yourself a high-maintenance girlfriend.”

  “Don’t get crazy, Tasha. It’s been me and you ever since we were toddlers. I’ll always have plenty of time for you.”

  “I don’t know. She doesn’t seem like the type of girl who’ll allow her guy to see another girl on any basis. And you are her guy now, aren’t you, Relihan?”

  If she sounded a little dejected, I chose not to notice. I went back to sit across from her at the table being careful not to meet her eyes. “I’d like to be but you’re wrong about her. She won’t have any problems with our being friends. We’ll see each other all the time, Tasha. Just as we do now. Nothing is going to change between us.”

  “Did you have a good time last night?” she asked.

  From the way she stared at me as she asked the question I knew she’d heard about our closet escapade. There was absolutely nothing but friendship between us and yet I felt almost as if I’d cheated on her as I nodded and then quickly changed the subject. Even though I considered Tasha my best friend, suddenly, I didn’t want to talk about Jemma with her.

  As it turns out, Tasha was right about our friendship. Jemma never actually said anything against Tasha, but somehow there was suddenly never enough time to squeeze in to see her. Whenever I wasn’t working at my part-time job or studying, Jemma insisted I be with her. That suited me just fine because I couldn’t get enough of her anyway. Whenever I made plans to spend a few hours with Tasha, Jemma needed me to do something for her.

  Jemma’s father was a hip-hop producer so she didn’t have to work or share an apartment with anyone. She had a very nice apartment just off campus where I spent all my free time there. One night, about a month after we’d met, I spent the night with her there. Although we pleasured each other frequently, she refused to have intercourse with me.

  We finally had sex when I told her I was going to take Tasha to a movie. When she tried to talk me into seeing her instead and I refused, she finally promised to give me some pussy. Back in those days, all I thought about was sex. So, even though I knew Tasha would be disappointed, I canceled our movie date, and rushed over to Jemma’s place.

  I’d only gone all the way twice, once with a girl I’d picked up hitchhiking in my senior year and once with a girl I’d met at a topless bar I’d gone to with some of my frat brothers. So I was a little apprehensive, not sure I’d be able to please her.

  But I’d worried for nothing. The moment I showed up, Jemma opened her apartment door—stark naked. Her nipples were already hard and her pussy looked slick. While I stood outside her doorway, gawking at her beautiful body, she unzipped my jeans, pulled out my cock and rubbed it against her slit.

  Smiling up at me, she pumped my cock until it was hard and dripping pre-cum. Then she wrapped her fingers around it and led me into her apartment. Pushing me against the wall, she impaled herself on my cock, dug
her fingers into my ass, and fucked me practically out of my mind.

  Coming inside a pussy for the first time blew me away. The other two women had made me wear protection. But Jemma was a fantastically hot and insatiable lover who loved sex-rough and raw. Back in those days I had no technique to speak off. She didn’t care because I had what she seemed to crave—a thick cock that got hard the moment I saw her.

  We spent the entire night fucking. We did it in bed, in the shower, on the kitchen table, and on her balcony—where anyone sitting on an adjacent one could see. She seemed to like the idea of strangers watching her get fucked. I didn’t care. I just wanted to fuck her as often as possible.

  After that night, Jemma became very possessive, but I didn’t mind. I was happier than I’d ever thought I’d be. I’d gone from being a guy who couldn’t get a date, to the lover of the most attractive girl on our campus. Girl? Oh, no. Although sweet, Tasha was a girl. My hot, sexy Jemma was a woman. Guys drooled over her every time she walked past, but I was the one she wanted. That did incredible things for my ego.

  My only regret was that I hardly ever saw Tasha anymore. Before I’d met Jemma, Tasha would cook dinner for me on Sunday, and we’d usually go to the movies on Wednesday. And if neither one of us had anything better to do, and we never did, we’d go to a nightclub on Friday night. Or sometimes we’d listen to records, or just sit and talk for hours.

  Each time Tasha and I made plans to go out, Jemma would hatch some wildly exciting alternative plan that usually involved having sex until we fell asleep from exhaustion— just to get me to cancel my night with Tasha. One time it was tickets to a ball game with the promise of anal sex later that night. She’d showed up at my place, just as I was getting ready to leave and pick up Tasha for dinner and a movie.

  “Jemma, I’d love to go, but I promised Tasha I’d take her out tonight.”

  “But these are hot tickets,” she countered, reaching between my legs to cup a hand over my cock. “Call her. You’re always talking about how smart she is.” She made Tasha’s 3.9 grade point average sound like something she needed to be ashamed off.