Ooo Ooo Bitchy Woman

What's the play when you realize the husband of a friend, the father of her three kids, wants to get into your knickers? The delectable Jennifer Gonzalez is contemplating this question as she lounges in bed one Sunday morning flicking through her phone.

She re-read the message she'd received, considering how to reply.

'Hi Jenny, I need to get Paula something special for her fortieth. Any ideas?'

Innocuous enough but Jenny sensed it was a gambit. Martin had never contacted her privately before. Her relationship was mainly with his wife Paula. And then the timing. On Thursday night the four of them, Martin, Paula, Jenny and her latest squeeze, Rob, had met up for dinner in town. It was the first time she'd seen Martin in years. Jenny had opted for a revealing dress, principally for Rob's benefit, since he'd be the one fucking her later, and he was duly impressed, however Rob was not the man who'd spent most of the meal gazing at her cleavage and trying to monopolize her. Paula's tense and muted demeanour had spoken volumes. Poor woman. Who wants that.

Rob had joked about it afterwards. 'Man of taste, appreciating the scenery,' he said, similarly engaged since Jenny was at that moment stood next to the bed slipping her bra off.

'And you liked it, babe, didn't you? Your friend's husband drooling over you.'

Jenny made a mock-protest face causing Rob to snicker.

'C'mon, Jen, we know how it is with you.'

She pouted and shook her tits at him, bra on the floor now, soon to be joined by the rest.

'Exactly,' grinned Rob, looking devouringly at Jenny, getting ready to receive.

It was a fair cop. Rob was not the brightest bulb in the basket however on this point he was correct. Blessed with an exceedingly pretty face, great hair, flawless complexion, a lush figure, Jennifer Gonzalez had always savoured her impact on men. Even more so these days. Having recently celebrated her own fortieth birthday she was looking better than ever and she knew it. Unlike her friend Paula Robbins, she had reaped the rewards of staying single, avoiding children, prioritising herself. She felt powerful, a woman in her prime. Along with her considerable physical attributes there was a poise and self-confidence. Jenny knew how to dress, how to carry herself, how to deal with different settings and circumstances. And in the restaurant on Thursday she'd been on top form.

The evening had been most satisfactory from her point of view. Two men at the table, both of them fawning over her. Quite the ego trip! As for the palpable discomfort of the other woman present, truth be told Jenny had rather enjoyed that too and throughout the dinner had slyly entertained herself by adding to it, being by turns vivacious, sophisticated and flirty with Rob and Martin, encouraging them to compete for her attention, casually patronizing the gooseberry with occasional glib remarks that she tossed like crumbs in her direction.

'You're quiet tonight, hun,' she'd said at one point, when Paula hadn't spoken for ages, this immediately after Jenny had regaled the table with a lengthy, rather risque anecdote that had both men in stitches. 'Am I?' said Paula, in a strangled voice. 'Paula's rather quiet, isn't she?' Jenny repeated, pressing the bruise, looking straight at Martin. A bit cruel? She had to admit it was rather. She'd been a bitch. But so what, you could be a bitch when you looked like Jenny. It was one of the many perks. The besotted guys didn't seem to mind, especially not Martin. And Paula? Well tough titty. If her hubby wanted to slobber over Jenny all night who was Jenny to say he shouldn't. Free country.

Not that she fancied him back of course. Jenny liked to date men a fair bit younger than herself, handsome studs in tip-top shape who could go like rabbits all night. Guys like Rob. These relationships tended not to last long, which suited Jenny just fine. It was usually she who ended it. As soon as the current beau began to bore or irritate her she would drop them, secure in the knowledge she would not struggle to find a replacement.

That's if she hadn't already found him. A degree of overlap could be fun. It allowed for a more leisurely approach to axing the guy who was in the departure lounge. For example, if she felt like being mean Jenny would continue to let him take her out for a while but gradually withdraw intimacy until eventually the poor man was getting nothing but a quick peck at the start and end of the night. It was amusing to observe how the men she did this to reacted, how they struggled with the frustration of no-sex after spending a whole evening in a bar or restaurant with her.

Needless to say she would still dress to thrill. That was the whole fun of it. Taunt the poor man with what he was no longer allowed to have. Sometimes they would suffer it quite stoically, with humour even, other times not so much, and there'd be scenes. Jenny's favourite was probably the time when this particular guy who she'd been treating terribly for weeks, no sex, mocking his requests for it, openly flirting with other men when they were out, totally embarrassed himself with an emotional meltdown in public, at first calling her a 'no good fucking cocktease', then when she said 'fine, fuck off then' switching to tears and 'so so sorry, Jenny' and 'I love you' and begging for another chance. She'd told him no way, blew him a kiss and jumped in a cab home to where her new man, in on what she was doing to this unfortunate guy, was waiting for her, ready to have a giggle about it all and fuck her brains out.

She'd be moving on from Rob soon, she'd pretty much decided that. He was getting a touch complacent, not trying quite so hard to please her, in bed and out, as he had when they'd first got together. So, yes, a couple more fucks then adios Roberto. She'd grant him a quick and merciful death because she remained quite fond of him.

Jenny planned to go younger next time, much younger, really treat herself. She had her sights set on one of the trainees at work, Paul, a gorgeous hunk not much more than half her age who'd been eyeing her up a lot around the office. Jenny had been inflaming the poor boy something rotten for months so she knew he'd leap at the chance. He'd be raring to go. She was aware he had a steady girlfriend who he'd need to dump if he and Jenny were going to have a thing but she was smugly confident that would be no obstacle. She had no compunctions about this. It added to the appeal that she'd be stealing her toyboy from some heartbroken young girl. Mmm, yes, a delicious prospect. Time to push the button on it. Maybe even tomorrow.

So, no, the short balding overweight pushing-fifty Martin Robbins was not her type and this was putting it mildly. They'd known each other slightly but for a long time, ever since he'd hooked up with Paula, her old friend from college days. Jenny had been a bridesmaid at their wedding. Then came the house and the three kids and all the rest of it, Martin continuing his mediocre career, Paula succumbing to the role of housewife and mother. Jenny couldn't see the point. She relished being the successful, highly paid lawyer who was also a sexually desirable and avaricious single woman, could not imagine sacrificing either on the altar of domesticity. But ok we're all different and she was content to be Paula's 'glamorous friend', keeping in touch, catching up every so often, sometimes just the two of them, sometimes with others, occasionally including Martin.

Who had never till now given away that he fancied her. There'd been no wandering eyes, no flirting, none of that. It must have been difficult, Jenny thought, he was a man after all, and she was so much more desirable than Paula, but credit where credit's due he'd managed it. Yet now all of a sudden the guy was telegraphing that he had the hots for her. Jenny was intrigued. She knew what she ought to do. She ought to discourage him. But what did she want to do?

Jenny toyed with her phone, musing on the possibilities. Dinner had been fun, hadn't it? So why not seek some more fun with the situation? It'd be amusing at the very least.

Decision made, she messaged Martin back.

'So nice to hear from you! Present for Paula? Oooo, not sure. You're her hubby. Don't YOU have any ideas?'

A reply came straightaway as she expected it would.

'Hmm, not really. Well apart from a boob job, lol.'

Jenny snorted with laughter at this. Couldn't help herself. Ok so it was like that then. Poor Paula! Right. Game on.

She called his number.

'A boob job?' she giggled, when he answered.

"Well, you know.'

'Er, wouldn't that be more of a present for you?'

'Busted,' Martin chuckled.

'Well you weren't exactly subtle the other night. Jesus, it was like I was topless or something.'

'You almost were.'

'Still, eyes on stalks, and right in front of your poor wife too.'

'Yeah, I know. Sorry.'

'Don't be. It's fine. I didn't mind at all. There's a reason I wear dresses like that.'

'I figured that was the case.'

'What can I say, I like male attention. The more the better. So, look, is there anything else? Something tells me you don't really want to talk about what to buy Paula for her birthday.'

'Yeah there is something else. I was, er, wondering if we could, you know, do it again.'

'Do what again, Martin?'

'Meet up. Just me and you this time.'

'Ah, I see. So no Rob and Paula.'

'Yeah, no Rob and definitely no Paula. I want to concentrate on the view.'

'You seemed to do that well enough last time.'

'Yeah and she gave me hell about it later.'

'You poor thing. What's her problem? You're only human, right?'

'Precisely, Jen, precisely. Christ, that dress with tits like yours. There should be a law against it.'

'Doesn't Paula ever wear a nice sexy dress like that?'

'Ha! I doubt it would have quite the same appeal on her.'

'Hey Paula's my friend, you know! It's not her fault she has disappointing tits. She's flat chested, I'm very much not. It's just one of those things. Life's not fair sometimes.'

'I know. But that hardly helps me, Jenny, does it?'

'Bet she can cook.'

'Yes, she can cook.'

'There you go. So count your blessings. Just enjoy mealtimes and try to forget about me and my big tits.'

'I can't, Jenny. After Thursday you're all I think about. Not just your tits, all of you.'

'All of me? Mmm, I like it. Do carry on.'

'Yeah, the whole package. This is hardly news to you, I don't suppose, but you are one fabulous looking woman.'

'Gee Mr Robbins, I'm blushing here.'

'Yeah yeah. As if.'

'I am too.'

'Honey, you don't fool me. You know exactly how fucking gorgeous you are.'

'Perhaps I do. But it's always nice for a girl to hear it.'

'You're welcome.'

'Especially when the girl in question is lying naked in bed and feeling horny.'

'You are?'

'Yes, sugar. I'm completely naked. Can you picture it?'

'Oh god, Jenny, please don't.'

'I take it you can then.'

'You're a fucking wet dream, Jen, that's what you are.'

'Really? Wow. Thank you.'

'Like I say, you're very welcome.'

'I'm playing with my breasts now, Martin. You'd quite like to do that one day soon, I suppose?'

'You're kidding me. Is that meant to be a question?'

'Yes, sugar, it is. So what's the answer? Tell me.'

'The answer is no. I wouldn't quite like to play with those luscious melons of yours. I'd give my fucking right arm to do that.'

'Meaning you'd have to do it left-handed. Wouldn't that hamper you a little?'

'Whatever, honey, whatever.'

'Ok, sugar, I think I get the picture. It's good to know how you feel about me. But how do you think Mrs Robbins would feel about Mr Robbins coming on to me like this?'

'What, him hitting on her very attractive friend from college who happens to have spectacular breasts?'

'Yeah, exactly. How would poor plain flat-as-a-pancake wifey feel if she heard you telling me how incredibly sexy I am and raving about my boobs.'

'Hurt and upset.'

'Like she was at dinner?'

'Rather worse than that, I'd say.'

'And what if she heard this hubby of hers begging her beautiful friend with the amazing tits, who she's always been jealous of, for a hot date? How would poor Paula feel then?'

'She'd be fucking devastated.'

'Let's make sure she doesn't find out then.'

'Deal.'

'She is still jealous of me, isn't she?'

'Can you blame her, Jenny?

'I guess not. It stems from when we were roomies in college. I got all the boys. I'll tell you about it sometime.'

'I look forward to that.'

'Yeah, we had some dramas. You know what it's like when you're young. Although you probably can't remember. You're not in the first flush, Martin, are you?'

'Big five oh in September.'

'Really? Quite old then.'

'Steady on, Jen.'

'Well you have ten years on me and Paula. Where is she now by the way?'

'She's taken the kids to McDonald's.'

'What a trouper.'

'She is.'

'Ho ho. Anyway, lovely to chat, but let's cut to the chase. You wanna take me for a nice romantic dinner, sugar, is that it?'

'I do.'

'Well perhaps I'd like that too. I'm not sure. Let me think about it.'

'Ok great, so maybe...'

'Gotta go now, sugar.'

Jenny ended the call before Martin could say anything else. It was not in her nature to make things easy for the men who fell for her. And especially not this one. Jeez what a piece of work.

Still, she'd enjoyed the conversation. Paula's husband was clearly smitten with her and although he didn't really float her boat the idea of fooling around with him behind poor Paula's back was a turn-on. She indulged in this wicked thought as she lay back in bed, her hand sliding between her legs.

***

So the delectable Jennifer Gonzalez granted Martin Robbins his date. She let him chase her up on it a few times then said ok. Her brief message, 'Belushi. 8 o'clock. Saturday.' triggered an effusive reply saying oh wow, wonderful, he was so looking forward to it. She wrote back simply, 'Ok sugar.'

Belushi was the poshest joint in town and charged eye-watering prices. No problem for Jenny, of course, she could afford this sort of high-end recreation very easily, but it would be Martin forking out and she guessed he'd find it quite a strain on the wallet. If he wanted the pleasure of Jenny's company he was going to have to dig deep. He could always scale back on his wife's birthday present, couldn't he? Get her something cheap and cheerful. It's the thought that counts, right? Jenny would sometimes subsidise her young lovers, she didn't mind that at all, rather enjoyed doing it, but no way would this be happening with Martin Robbins. This relationship, such as it was, was going to be conducted on the traditional 'man pays' basis. Yep, Jenny mused, Martin was going to pay, and in more ways than one. She had a clear picture of how this 'affair' should develop for it to be worth her while.

Rule number one, he would not get to fuck her. This was non-negotiable. She had too much respect for herself to even consider it. No way does Jennifer Gonzalez have sex with unprepossessing middle-aged men. It simply does not happen. Fine for ordinary women, sure, but that was not her life. She wouldn't bother pretending either. Ok, it could be quite fun being devious like that, dangle the prize in front of a guy, continually raising and dashing his hopes, she'd done plenty of it over the years, but it required effort and she really couldn't be bothered for Martin Robbins. She'd tell him the bad news upfront on this first date at Belushi. You will not be fucking me, sugar, and you need to accept this if there's going to be more of these dinners. He'd be gutted, no doubt, maybe protest a little, but Jenny had a feeling he'd cave in when he saw she was serious.

So, no fuck. Martin's cock would be staying in his pants. But this didn't mean Martin would get nothing. That would be too unfair and also a little boring for Jenny. For starters she would always wear a nice low-cut dress for him and he'd be able to slobber at her tits all evening, stare at them non-stop if he wanted. She'd encourage this. It's what he'd said he wanted after all, so, ok Marty, knock yourself out, have a full-on perv, make yourself look like a seedy old lech in public. Jenny would sit there, disdainfully amused, every now and again catch the eye of people who'd noticed, other diners, the staff, and roll her eyes in a 'look what I have to put up with to get a free dinner,' kind of way. They'd become regulars, since Jenny would always insist on Belushi, and by the third or fourth date Marty, as she might actually start calling him, would be something of a joke in there. That guy who drools openly over his female companion all night. What a creep. And she's such a looker too, wonder why she puts up with it, wonder what the story is there. Maybe he's her 'customer'. You get these really classy looking hookers, don't you.

There might be a little something extra for Marty, depending on Jenny's mood. What she'd do, just occasionally, is stretch her leg out under the table and place a foot in his lap, pressing firmly into his groin, and stimulate him through his pants, allow the combination of this and her flaunted cleavage to work him into a frenzy, which he'd have to try and hide, being sat there in a premier league restaurant. When she sensed him on the edge she'd either stop, leaving him teased and frustrated, or she'd step it up and push him over, make him cum in his pants right there at the table. It'd be hilarious. Bet that was better than fucking your wife, she'd smirk, and tell him to thank her profusely for being such a sport.

The other sexual favour Jenny would grant, again just occasionally, was access to what he most craved. She planned to show Martin her tits, nipples and all, and allow him to kiss them. Ok, not her actual tits, c'mon, but the next best thing, a high-quality close-up picture of them on her phone. She had plenty to choose from. Jenny liked to send porny pics of herself to tease her lovers. It was just a matter of choosing a really hot one of her breasts. She wouldn't send this to Martin, that would be too generous, but she'd have it on her phone to show him in the restaurant. He'd have to ask first, of course, and she'd usually say no, but if he asked strenuously enough, preferably downright begging, Jenny would relent and get it up on screen and hold it up for him to enjoy. And, yes, if she was feeling particularly benevolent, he'd be allowed to crane forward, pucker up, and give the photo a big fat smoochy kiss. Never let it be said that she was not a kind-hearted woman.

There'd be plenty of chat about Paula too on their dates. She was the main reason for them after all. For Martin, because her charms as a wife weren't sufficient to stop him demeaning himself pursuing Jenny, and for Jenny because the whole pleasure of this was to have Paula's husband as her plaything. She'd get him talking disparagingly about his wife, egg him on by making it clear that such talk pleased her, and he'd be wanting to please her, wouldn't he. She was looking forward to sitting there, looking all sexy and gorgeous, listening to Marty say stuff like 'oh god, Jen, you are a million times more attractive than Paula, she does nothing for me now, all I want is this thing with you, how the fuck am I supposed to get through the times between us seeing each other?' Jenny would giggle and say he always had his right hand, didn't he? Oh and if he was still fucking Paula, why not close his eyes and imagine she was Jenny. Just be careful not to get carried away and call her Jenny, though. We don't want to get busted, do we?

Jenny had also chosen Saturday for a reason. If her 'rules' were accepted and there were further dates, they would always be on a Saturday. Why? Because Martin would have to be creative to think up an excuse for why he was dressed up and going out on a Saturday night. Jenny wanted Paula to be suspicious. She was planning to invite Paula for coffee, once she'd got Martin well and truly under her thumb, and that would even be more of a giggle if Paula had sussed her husband might be seeing another woman. Perhaps Jenny would be able to coax it out of her, get her pouring her heart out to Jenny about the state of her marriage. What a scream if she could engineer that. Jenny would sympathise of course. Say what a jerk Martin was, that the woman should be ashamed of herself, getting involved with a married man. But, you know, she supposed the woman was some brainless young bimbo, and men will be men, and no doubt Martin would soon see sense. Yes, Jenny was very much looking forward to having that coffee with Paula. Maybe she would get Martin to break the bank and buy her a lovely necklace and she'd wear it especially for the occasion, let Paula see and admire it.