Stepping Over the Line

Stepping Over the Line
Literary Erotica
by Lord Malinov

I reached for the phone reluctantly. The ring caught me mid-thought but it was almost as if I knew it was coming. I tried to control my nervousness as I spoke my hello.

“Hey, buddy, can I meet you for lunch?” Rob asked, his question sounding more like a demand than a request.

“Sure,” I answered, at once analyzing my friend’s tone for hidden meanings.

“Riggo’s at twelve?”

“Sure,” I replied.

I hung up the phone slowly, my whole body shaken by the sudden reality of my situation. The day before had begun so ordinarily, but somewhere in the middle of the afternoon, I had crossed a threshold. I didn’t go see Julie deliberately. I never planned even a word of our brief encounter. It just happened. And now at twelve, I felt certain, more was going to happen. What that more might be consumed my thoughts as the next three hours dragged by.

Rob and I had met for lunch at Riggo’s at twelve regularly, twice a week more often than not over the last seven years. There was nothing strange about the way he called, nothing unusual about the way he spoke. I tried to tell myself as I sat staring out the window of my office into the grey winter morning that I had no reason to think Rob knew what I had done.

He stood in front of the orange neon light that spelled Riggo. Rob had gained size over the years, although he had always been a hulk of a man. Lunch, for Rob, was a serious event. Meals, I should say. Rob ate hungrily, although he never seemed to weigh more than a man of his build should. I stepped up bravely. Rob slapped a heavy arm around my shoulder.

“Dan,” he said heartily. “I’m glad to see you. Today I feel great, and it’s good to have a friend to share my joy with.” I greeted him with a smile and we stepped inside the cozy restaurant. A young man showed us to our table and Rob spoke terse instructions for wine and bread as he unfolded a napkin expectantly onto his lap.

“I had a meeting this morning with the Commissioner. Did I tell you he called and asked me to help him with his trade project? I gave him the figures he needed and we discussed the contracts. I think we might be able to wing another deal out of this.” The waiter brought a basket of warm bread and Rob had begun buttering a piece almost before the wicker hit the table. The young man offered a perfunctory glance at the label and began to open the Chablis. Rob nodded while he chewed a bite of bread.

“Porter has a new secretary. Did I tell you? Mmmm,” said Rob. I wondered if he meant the bread or the girl.

“No,” I told him.

“Pretty girl. Young. Nice eyes. I talked to her yesterday after lunch for a little while. Really good butt.” Rob shoved the remainder of the bread in his hand into his mouth just as the waiter offered him a taste of the wine. Rob hurriedly chewed the hunk of bread while nodding at the waiter.

Our lunchtime discussions usually revolved around tales of Rob’s women, their appearance, his approach, their seduction, and his conquest. Today, I was doubly glad to hear him start on plans to dine at another table. The fact that Dan cheated on Julie so lavishly had started the whole mess. Knowing his thoughts were occupied by some secretarial ass comforted my guilty mind.

“Excellent,” Rob said, holding up the glass for a fill. The waiter poured. “Anyway,” he said, “I’m going up to Boston next weekend and I’ve already got Porter’s permission to ‘borrow’ some help. I’m looking forward to this one. Good tits.”

Rob looked forward to them all. He devoured women with the same relish he had for buttered bread. My thoughts drifted back to yesterday.

I had dropped by the mall on my way back from a meeting with a client because I needed some socks. It was one of those things where the whole universe seems to conspire; Driving down the freeway, I reached down to pull up my sock and with the first tug, the nylon tore. Even before I had finished cursing the fabric, I realized I was approaching the exit for the Oak Forest Mall. I laughed as I recognized the good fortune of proper timing and pulled off the highway and into the parking lot of one of the large anchor stores.

Five minutes later I had paid for a bundle of socks and sat down in one of the chairs of the shoe department to change my worn socks for a new pair. As I wiggled my toes, I looked up and saw an attractive blonde woman looking over a pair of cream pumps.

“Julie,” I said at once. Her blue eyes rose and discovered me.

“Dan,” she said sweetly, “what a surprise.”

I told her about my socks and she told me about her shoes and we walked along until the aroma of brewed coffee inspired me to ask her to join me in a cup.

“Sure,” said Julie. “I’ve been on my feet too long.”

I don’t know if I would have said so yesterday, but the truth is that I have had a serious crush on Julie for a long time. There is something about her that just melts my heart. We sat talking over coffee, about I don’t know what, and as we laughed and remembered and speculated, despite years of devoted friendship with Rob, I found myself horribly in love with his wife.

So I was sitting in this coffee shop, staring into Julie’s placid blue eyes, trying to imagine some way to make her understand my feeling of affection, trying to elicit some small hint of encouragement from her, when Julie began to speak endearingly about Rob. A black shadow stole over my soul as she told me what a wonderful husband and father he was, and I felt cursed with envy and hate.

“He was in a meeting with Allen until after eleven last night,” she said. Something evil possessed me.

“But Allen’s in Prague.” The color left Julie’s face. I tried to rope her heart with an endearing gaze, but a frown stole over her lips and she shuddered slightly as she gulped down the last sip of coffee. She looked at her gold watch.

“Anyway, Dan, it’s been good seeing you.” Julie stood up and held out a hand. I took her fingers warmly, and she reached for her packages and almost ran away.

“Good,” bellowed Rob as the waiter brought large plates of spaghetti to our table. “I’m starved,” he said, almost drooling with excitement. He plunged his fork into the steaming pasta before the waiter’s fingers had released the plate.

I took a bite of food. Dan nodded happily and beamed, a red stain of sauce already coloring his lips.

“Just incredible,” he said. “Speaking of which, I have got to tell you about last night. In all my years of marriage, I have never had such a night.”

I choked on my food and grabbed for the wine, washing down my sudden stroke of nerves with long gulps of the Chablis. Dan looked concerned, and took another mouthful when I nodded my improved condition. My heart raced.

“I came home about seven-thirty last night. I had a meeting with Rogers that wouldn’t end. I was starved. I thought I’d be getting a casserole and a sandwich, but I opened the door and wham! Veal Parmesan.” Rob let the words roll deliciously off his tongue and took another mouthful of spaghetti.

“Mmm,” he continued before swallowing. “The whole table was covered with dishes, artichoke hearts and clams and potatoes and a big loaf of fresh bread. I could not believe it. I sat down at the table without even taking off my coat.”

“Jules walks in from the kitchen, and then I got suspicious.”

“Why?” I asked, gently touching my lips with my napkin.

“I figured her mother was coming. What else would make her get all dolled up and fix me a feast on a Wednesday night? She has to be buttering me up for something. Anyway, she’s sly. She just told me she loved me and begged me to eat up.”

“Probably her mother,” I said.

“Yeah, that’s what I figure. But with a plate of hot veal in front of me, I wasn’t looking in a gift horse’s mouth. It was incredible, you know the way it just melts in your mouth, but you know what was even more unbelievable?”

“No,” I said, taking a piece of bread.

“I have this mouth-watering feast set out in front of me, and after a few bites, I’m staring at my wife’s tits. She had on this silky blue shirt that hung down low, and she leaned forward with her elbows on the table and my eyes just fixed, right there. Who’d have believed it?”

“Not me.” Rob laughed hard.

“Never in a million years. After dinner, she tells me to go into the den and relax while she cleans up. She’s a peach. So I go sit down in my chair, kick up my feet and Julie brings me a cigar. Julie. How many times has she wrinkled her nose like I was a disgusting pig because I lit a cigar? She snaps the lighter and lets me puff. I figured I was in heaven, and picked up the remote to see if I can find a game. She took the remote out of my hand. I think, here it comes, thinking now is when she tells me about her Mom, but you know what Jules said?”

“No.”

“‘Let me entertain you,’ she said. She slinks over to the stereo, wiggling her hips, and turns on some of that new dance music. I take a deep whiff of my stogie and figure, what the hell. Then Julie starts to dance.” Rob smiled devilishly, and downed a glass of wine.

“You remember Angie, a girl I was messing with a few months ago? The nasty one? Always wanted me to finish by coming in her face?”

“Okay,” I said.

“Last night, Julie could have taught her a few things. I was almost embarrassed watching her. She started out dancing and that was all right, but then she starts stripping off her clothes. I tell you what, I’d almost forgotten what an excellent body Jules has. She was just wicked, bouncing her big titties in my face, squeezing them in her hands. Julie’s nips become tight little nubs when she gets horny, and she’ll squeal when I bite on them. She loves to have her tits sucked.”

Rob piled spaghetti on a folded piece of bread and shoved the mass into his mouth, mumbling his appreciation. I looked into my plate, flushed.

“So I’m sitting back, enjoying my private show, and Jules pushes her skirt down and I start thinking if she’s going to act this way, her mother should visit more often. Then Jules bends over to push down her black panties, and I’m looking up her ass and then the lips of her cunt with a little tuft of golden hair curled underneath and Jules starts bending at the knees, you know, spreading her pussy open while she’s diddling her clit. She has beautiful full lips that just unfold when she gets excited.”

“Wow,” I said, nervously looking at my watch.

“I know,” said Rob, mopping up his plate with a piece of bread. “Then she starts begging me to fuck her, which I did, and the whole time she’s telling me how much she loves my dick and how she’ll do anything for me, and how crazy I’m making her and I start imagining new things to try and she’s fucking ready to do anything I say. I fucked her tits, fucked her mouth and then,” Rob paused, and whispered, “I even fucked her ass. She’s never let me do that before. I tell you, Dan, it was fantastic.”

“Uh huh.” I picked up my coat as the waiter put the bill on the table. Rob reached for it.

“No, this is on me. Good fortune needs to be shared. I don’t know what got into Julie, but I hope she gets into that mood again. I could stay married with a wife like that.”

I left Rob in a daze, my heart aching, bruised and torn. Some days you can’t win for losing. Some lines just shouldn’t be crossed.

About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet - author of Song of Songs, Journals of Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances and others ...
This entry was posted in books, erotica, fiction, literature, literotica, personal, short stories, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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