Monday With Patti
Monday morning I was at the dealership early. Coffee, the service drive, a couple of high-line customers who wanted their cars yesterday. The note from Patti was in my shirt pocket. I kept feeling it every time I reached for a pen.
I waited until ten, when the shop was loud enough that nobody would hear me. I stepped out by the parts door and dialed.
She picked up on the second ring.
“Dick?”
“It’s me. Got your note.”
“I hoped you would.” Her voice was softer than Saturday night, almost shy. “Are you at work?”
“Yeah. Can you talk?”
“Roger’s in surgery until two. I’m home. I keep thinking about the pool. And the bedroom.” She paused. “Did I scare you off?”
“No. I meant what I said. I was excited. Still am.”
“Good. Because I want to see you. Not a party. Just us. Can you get away this afternoon?”
I looked at the board. Two appointments I could move. Tamra knew the open-marriage rules; she wouldn’t ask if I said I was going to be late. “I can be there around three.”
She gave me the address again even though I knew it. “Park on the side. The garage code is the same as Saturday if you need it. I’ll leave the side door unlocked.”
I hung up with a hard-on I had to walk off before I went back inside.
I got there at ten after three. South Hill was quiet. Four-car driveway empty except for her little Mercedes. I used the side door like she said.
Patti was in the kitchen in a short robe, nothing under it that I could see. Hair still damp from a shower. She didn’t say hello. She walked straight into me, put her arms around my neck, and kissed me like we’d been doing it for years.
“I told Roger I might have company,” she said against my mouth. “He smiled. That’s all he did. Smile.”
“So he knows.”
“He knows I liked you. He liked Tamra. That’s how this house works.”
She took my hand and led me down the hall, not to the bedroom from Saturday. A smaller room with the blinds half drawn. King bed already turned down. A towel on the nightstand. Lube.
She opened the robe and let it fall. In daylight I could see all of her. Full tits, small waist, that little uncut cock already starting to plump against her thigh. Three inches, thin, the loose skin covering the head. Below it, a smooth tight pouch.
“Still not disappointed?” she asked.
I went to my knees and answered her with my mouth. I licked her from the base of those small nuts up the shaft, pushed the foreskin back with my tongue, and sucked her in. She made that same whimper from Saturday. My hands went to her ass. I spread her cheeks and found her hole still a little soft from the night before.
“Dick—bed. Please.”
I stood up, stripped, and sat on the edge of the mattress. She climbed into my lap facing me, her little cock trapped between our stomachs, my cock sliding along her crack. She reached back, spit in her hand, and worked me until I was slick.
“I want it the same way,” she said. “In my ass. Breed me again.”
She lined me up and sat down slow. Daylight made it different. I could watch myself disappear into her. Tight, hot, that same back wall when she took the last inch. She groaned “oh fuck” on every drop of her hips.
I got a hand between us and stroked her little cock while she rode. It firmed up in my fist, wet at the tip. I thumbed the head under the skin and she clenched around me hard enough I almost came.
“Not yet,” she said. “I want you deep when you go.”
She leaned back on her hands and I took over, holding her hips, fucking up into her. Her tits bounced. That tiny penis slapped against her belly. When I felt myself getting close I pulled her down and held her there, grinding.
“Now. In me. Dick—now.”
I came hard. Not eight this time—five or six long pulses while she milked me. Her own cock twitched and left a wet streak on my stomach. Not much volume. Enough that I felt it.
We stayed locked like that until I softened and slipped out. Cum followed, down her crack onto my thighs.
She laughed, breathless. “Messy.”
“You asked for it.”
“I know.” She kissed me. “Will you stay an hour? Roger won’t be home until after five. I want your mouth again. The way you did after, with your finger.”
I put her on her back, pillows under her ass, and went down. Licked her nuts, sucked that finger-sized cock until it was semi-hard, then slid two fingers into her sloppy hole and found her prostate. She came quieter this time, a few dribbles on my tongue, thighs shaking.
After, we lay there and talked the way we hadn’t Saturday. How long she’d been with Roger. How few men ever put her cock in their mouth. How Tamra had looked at her when we walked out of the bedroom.
“She wasn’t angry,” Patti said. “Just surprised. You should tell her you came back today. Don’t ask, don’t tell only works if you don’t hide the parts that matter.”
I said I would.
At four-thirty I showered in the guest bath. She wrote her number again on a real card this time, not a scrap from a pocket.
“Thursday,” she said at the side door. “Lunch. Not here. That Italian place on Sprague. Roger’s in clinic all day. If you want more than lunch, say so when you get there.”
I kissed her and left.
On the drive back to the dealership I called Tamra.
“I’m going to be a little late,” I said. “I saw Patti.”
Silence for a second. Then: “Did you have a good time?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Dinner’s at seven. You can tell me the rest after the kids are in bed.”
That was the deal. Safe. Honest enough. And a Thursday lunch already on the calendar.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
