She took a breath and tried to stop her fingers from shaking. She’d never won before. This was a big moment.
“C-U-C-K,” she laid down four letter tiles and looked up at him for a response. He smiled smugly, not quite understanding what was about to go down. “O-L-D. And I’m going to use your ‘S’ for CUCKOLDS.”
Her eyes rested on the board for a moment, taking in the finality of her wordplay and the scandalous idea she was about to introduce. Raising and locking her eyes on his she continued, “definition: a woman ‘cuckolds’ her man when she sleeps with another. I’m afraid you lose.”
“Three years of playing Scrabble and you finally beat me with that? Jesus.”
Even in defeat, he oozed arrogance. She loved every bit of it. A powerful man, things went his way or they usually didn’t go anywhere.
“So, you can do anything you want to me. What’s it going to be?” The question sounded like a command coming from him.
“Clothes off.” She took a pull of her Cabernet Sauvignon and looked away, waiting for him to act.
“I like this so far.” The silk suit fell at her feet. The tie, the tailored shirt all scattered on the deep, pile carpet.
“Now, go into the closet, stand at the doorway and wait for me.”
Chuckling, he slowly did as he was told, his muscles rippling like a puma’s. In the closet, he turned and she could see his cock starting to stir.
“You’re not such a bad loser, Sweetie.” Reaching down she felt the blood rushing through him. “Hands above your head.”
He obliged. She snapped a pair of handcuffs on him, hooking them over his pull-up bar.
“A lot of people would pay big dollars to get me in this position, you know?”
“I do. And I don’t have to pay you anything. I just had to win!”
She walked out of the closet and across the bedroom to her phone. Before dialing, she looked at her strong, naked man. “Comfy?”
“Sure. But I was hoping you were going to suck my cock. Can’t do it from over there,” he play-pouted.
Tossing back her long, red hair, she laughed. “No, I can’t,” and dialed. He watched her, leaning into the cuffs, his erection growing.
“Farouk, this is Annabelle. I’m friends with Olivia K over on 5th and 71st. She told me I could call you if I ever needed some company.”
Tan and mature, her boyfriend’s face let her know he was not expecting this. Disbelief, pain, confusion, and excitement, it all raced across the landscape of his handsomeness. She took it in, delighted in the wickedness of her plan and then she polished it off with a husky flourish. “And Farouk, make it someone that can really fuck… Understand?”
She hung up and stared at him, dangling there on his handcuffs: so powerful but so helpless at the moment. Fully aroused now, he did something she’d never heard before, he stammered.
“Sorry darling.” She was sweet as honey. “What are you trying to say?”
Again, he opened his mouth but words did not come.
“Time for me to get ready for my lover. Stay there, would you?”
“Annabelle, this is a joke. You’re not really going to do this.”
“Fuck another man? In front of you? I think you want me to, Grant. Maybe you just don’t know it, yet.”
Unbuttoning her blouse, she moved to him, a foreign intensity pulling them together. His eyes narrowed and closed as she stood on her tippy toes and whispered in his ear, “I’m going to fuck him in just the nastiest way, Grant.” She moved around in front of him, dropping her blouse and unfastening her black bra. “I really hope you like it,” she said with cotton candy innocence.
Again, she grabbed his cock, massaged it slowly and traced her fingernails on its head. His eyelids fluttered and his lips parted.
“Are you man enough for this?” she asked with a tight squeeze.
He smiled with his eyes closed.
“Nothing to say?” She moved into the center of the room, and dropped her skirt. With her back to him, she lusciously bent over and unfastened her Jimmy Choos. Leaving her thigh highs and black g-string on, she turned back to him, all creamy skin and pale, pink nipples. “I do hope he likes me.”
Grant groaned, shifted his feet and then erupted, “Alright game’s over. Undo these Goddamned things. Enough.”
“Sweetie, you know the Scrabble rules. Winner gets to do anything they want…”
His eyes were furious and his big dick was throbbing.
“I’m afraid you’re just going to have to stand there. You don’t even get to watch.”
With a marvelously caring smile, Annabelle swung the closet door closed and was alone in her bedroom. She waited for him to bellow, to protest, to rip down the pull up bar. It did not happen. The room was quiet, her game was on to the next phase and she was hot, wet and ready for it.
The doorbell rang. In her jade kimono, Annabelle opened it wide and dramatic. Taking in the man before her, from head to toe she approved. He fit a few inches below the doorjam, his shoulders were perfect for holding on to and his skin was rich mahogany.
“Delicious at my door!” she smiled and stepped aside to let him in.
“My name is Dexter and I take it you’re Annabelle.”
“I am indeed and I’m really going to enjoy this.” She couldn’t contain herself. Throwing her arms around her pay-for-play lover she gave him a deep, hungry kiss.
“Can we go right to the bedroom?”
“I’m here for you, Annabelle, as you wish.”
Down her barn red hallway, past the exquisite antique paintings Grant had given her, she came into their bedroom with her exotic toy and for a moment stared at the closed closet.
Then in a voice, she thought would make Grant have to lean in a bit to hear through the door, Annabelle said, “Dexter, please, I just can’t wait to see you with your clothes off.”
For the second time that night, a gorgeous man disrobed in front of Annabelle, just as she had demanded.
“Oh my God,” she giggled, “you’re huge! Come here, I want to feel it.” Giddy with excitement, she stood a few feet from Dexter and wondrously put her hand on his soft, smooth shaft. “I don’t know, Dexter, it might be too much,” she breathed. Her hand reflexively started working. Her eyes bounced between her lover’s amused smile and the growing result of the effort in her manicured hand.
