How long had he been following me for? Was it due to my outfit, was anything too revealing about it? Maybe I was being paranoid, and he was walking towards the bus station like I was. Sure, I had my moments when I thought the world revolved around me, but those were quickly snapped when reality sneaked its way into my illusory realm.
It's my skirt, it has to be, I thought, glancing back at my mysterious follower. No, he must've seen my lace-top stockings when I was sitting at the table.
I picked up my pace and changed my route, trying to lose him, but sure enough, he followed attentively and kept his distance. He was either a creep or someone on to me. The feeling he knew more about me than a typical stranger would, made me anxious.
Bold, are we? Okay then, I thought, turning into an empty alley, forcing him to make a decision.
"You're clever, but I'm on to you," he said, opting to confront me instead of nonchalantly walking down the sidewalk to preserve his cover.
"W-who are you and what do you want?" I asked, motioning him to stop and keep his distancing with my hand.
"Your husband, Grant, hired me to follow you," he began, walking slowly towards me. "Let's, uh, say he's suspicious that you are being unfaithful."
"But...I don't understand why you're telling me this," I said, trying to piece the multiple perspectives together while my reddening face betrayed me.
He pulled out a small notebook from his pocket and raised it in front of him, about head-height. "Been following you for several weeks. I know you have a lover who, well, matches your libido," he revealed.
He was right. I couldn't lie to him, so my options were limited at this point. "Have, er, you told my husband?" I asked, confused as to why he had continued following me after confirming my husband's suspicions.
"No, I must admit I've enjoyed being your shadow a bit too much," he said, flashing a confident smile that terrorized me.
He appeared to be good at his job, perhaps too good, and it seemed he often took it beyond his outlined responsibilities. "What do you mean, like, what're you after?" I asked.
His calmness contrasted with my panic. He wasn't phased at all by approaching me and telling me everything he knew. That uncanny level of control struck fear in me. "I can tell your husband everything right now or we can understand each other," he said.
His words added much needed clarity to his intentions. Most things revolved around money or sex, and this was no different for him. He continued following me to get extra money out of my husband and now wanted to play his cards directly into my panties.
"Y-you fucking scumbag," I said, incredulously shaking my head. "You want to blackmail me into sex."
"That's not what I said, but if that's what you propose, well, I wouldn't oppose," he said, stacking even more of an argument against me.
"I don't, I don't fucking know," I said, more so thinking out loud than towards him.
"Look, just a one-time thing," he said, pausing to contain his smile. "I'm not even lasting five minutes with that body."
He was proposing a wicked game, knowing that I was a player fit for it, but I wasn't going to let him dictate everything. I had to find some leverage and ensure my position in the game.
"And then what? You leave me the fuck alone?" I asked.
"Well, first off, I'm not even from here. Second, I will be leaving once my assignment ends," he explained.
He had me against the wall. There was no escape, so my last resort was to spiral down with him. "You absolutely fucking promise to leave me alone and clear my husband's suspicions?"
"You have my word. It's not like you can't report me, so this is entirely mutual," he said, showing me his ID and handing me his contact card as he walked me out the alley.
We clarified several other things on our way to a motel a few blocks away and hurried inside once he got the key to the room. Luckily, in the middle of the day, the place was empty and about as discreet as it could be.
As I sat on the bed to take off my heels, I asked, "Wait, so you know my meeting with my lover today didn't go as planned, right?"
"Oh, yeah, that's why I approached you today," he replied with a grin that told me more than his words.
"You've done this before, haven't you?" I asked, continuing to get as much information out of him as possible.
"Of course, no better way of confirming a husband's suspicions than by fucking his wife," he answered, smiling as he undressed to reveal his dad bod.
Shaking my head and smiling in disbelief, I said, "Sure hope you know you're a son of a bitch."
He laughed, with no intent of rebuking my comment, and got in bed wearing only his boxers.
"Oh, and I'm only giving you one position, so choose wisely," I said, much to his dismay.
"Ah, c'mon, you're no fun," he said, watching attentively as I stripped down to the matching bra and panty set and stockings I was wearing underneath to surprise my lover.
I could feel his eyes taking mental images of my body, as if collecting a file in his mind for future reference. "Well, you're not exactly my type and you're blackmailing me, so there's that," I said, giving him a forced smile.
He freed the bulge tenting his boxers and began stroking it to get it hard enough to fit the condom over it, all while looking at me expectantly, "Sorry that I'm not your stud college football player that you fuck regularly."
I let out a deep sigh. It was all I could do. The consequences of my actions had caught up to me, and it was time to face them. "Certainly not, but what's it gonna be?" I asked.
Doubling down on his arousal, he said, "Get on top. Ride me so I can grab your ass and suck on those titties."
I rolled my eyes but did as he wanted, positioning myself on top of him with my moist labia mere centimeters from his throbbing member. This will be worth it in the end, I thought, finding solace in the fact that I would continue my regular life after this unusual experience.
He unhooked my bra and let my bare breasts fall closer to his face. Doing exactly what he'd said, he took my right nipple into his mouth to entertain himself while he moved my thong aside to give himself access. It wasn't the intense and passionate scenario I was used to with my virile lover, but a nymphomaniac like myself could never pass up sex, no matter the circumstances.
"You have the body of a porn star," he said, before giving the same attention to my other breast.
I dropped my weight on him, effortlessly taking his length inside of me, and began moving my hips to create friction by rubbing my clitoris against him. Sex was my specialty, and even in this case, I wanted to prove my prowess to him. My body was built for pleasuring others. Just like he had said, it was the body of a porn star.
His hands caressed my thighs, running over the lace-top detail of the stockings and down to the semi-opaque fabric encasing my legs. My lover enjoyed seeing me in lingerie and being the pleasing slut that I was. I always made sure to wear the finest pieces that encouraged the ravaging of my flesh. This time, a sleazy detective was the one reaping the benefits.