What The Hells Happening Ch 02

Hi, you might want to read chapter one first.

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TWO. HE KISSED MY GIRL AND...

Matt Mason must have been watching for us to enter because he sprang to his feet almost immediately and walked a suave sway toward us, his eyes set only for my Rebecca.

"Becky!" He extended his hands to take hers, and then pulled her in for a close hug as they nudged cheeks. She reciprocated and puckered her lips in an air smack.

I cringed. He called her Becky, and she hated that short version of her name. Said it sounded childish and demeaning.

"Hi Matty." She chirped.

What, they both had cute pet names!?

"Matty, this is my husband, Kevin, who I'm sure you must know."

"Kev, bro... how yo hanging man? Great script, really solid stuff there Kev." He grinned that freaking smirk and gripped my hand in a purposeful attempt to crush my knuckles. Yeah I'm a writer, not a fighter tough guy. And I hate 'Kev' and I knew he knew it. I smiled a plastic smile back. I will never be your bro, smart-ass!

"Hey, come over and sit at my table." He guided Rebecca toward the vacated bench and invited her to sit. Neither gave me a backward glance! She tucked her little skirt under her ass and slid into the booth as his big paw of a hand guided her at mid-spine central. It didn't help my demeanor that Rebecca's dress was mostly backless and she was obviously bra-less beneath it.

"Hey Kev bro, why don't you grab us all some drinks." He pulled a wad of folded notes from his pocket and peeled three out like they were monopoly tender and slid them across the table before he followed Rebecca into the booth. I hated this bastard!

The line to the bar was three deep. Shit...

"Hi Kevin!" A chirpy voice announced Sally Fielding. She was the cute makeup artist on set and we'd met a few times previously. Rebecca thought the world of the girl and they were likely best friends. "It's really good to see our writer. I love the script and so does the population. You have a hit here Kevin, congratulations!" She beamed with true enthusiasm.

"Thanks Sally. It's nice to hear positive feed-back." I smiled a little uncomfortably. I was glancing over her shoulder at my wife, now talking animatedly with her co-star. She leaned in close and seemed to whisper something amusing. Sally turned to follow my line of sight.

"They're good together aren't they?" She hesitated and looked alarmed. "I mean they act well together, and they seem to be able to portray a certain 'chemistry' on set."

I wanted to get back there, desperately! Rebecca raised her eyes and scoped me out, smiled a little shyly, then finger waved me and leaned in close to Matt and whispered once more. They both cracked up. I felt sick! Fuck, what was the hold up here!

Finally I loaded my tray and set off.

"I'll catch up with you later Kevin." Sally called to my retreating ass.

"Oh, yeah, sure, see you Sally." I bee-lined over to my wife... and him.

"Wow, that took a while bro." Matt accepted the beer. No thank you or cursory acknowledgement. Just grabbed the glass and gulped down a generous chug. I found myself sitting in the opposite seat as the two co-stars. They sat uncomfortably close (uncomfortable for me) whilst I sat straight and stiff waiting for Rebecca to acknowledge me and perhaps excuse herself and come around to sit with me; her husband. Truth be-known, I already wanted to go home. Matt tuned to me and examined me like I was an interesting bug.

"We had a good wrap today. That was a great episode. It's starting to get real hot and heavy now. Hubby doesn't have a clue that his pretty little wife is fucking her big hunky neighbor behind his back. I like were the story is going bro. The kissing scenes were way cool, but I reckon the bedroom scenes will be awesome." He grinned that shit eating lopsided smirk and raised his glass. "To 'Missionary Man' and future success!"

Rebecca clinked her glass with his and giggled girlishly. "Too 'Missionary Man' and scandalous sex!"

I felt squirmy...

There was a live band playing and the slow blues music had settled the rowdy crowd.

"Hey Becks, want to dance?" Matt the player half pulled my wife from the booth. Was she resisting?

"Thanks Matty, I'd love too. You don't mind do you honey?" She clambered out after him like free ice cream was on offer and tugged her tiny party skirt down to cover her stocking tops.

"Well, I..."

They swayed off to the beat holding hands and occasionally colliding hips, heading toward the dance floor. I was simmering with an equal dose of rage and lust. Where had the latter come from? I watched them then, dancing up close and personal through two sets. They occasionally bumped pelvis's, then hugged a little to close and my wife's pretty head fell a little too often against the assholes huge hard chest. When one big hand sank over her ass I trembled and considered getting up and cutting in, only to shrink back into my seat and curse the fact that I have no idea how to dance... nor how to shield my raging hard-on. I was a seething mess when they returned laughing and chatting like old friends. I guessed they were... old friends... having to spend nearly every hour of the day in each other's vicinity, sometimes kissing and...

"Hey bro, this little woman can dance! She's nearly worn me out already. Might have to take a break for a bit before she drags me back out there." He guided Rebecca back into the seat opposite again and sat, finished his beer, now surely lukewarm and grinned. "I'll load us up again. What's ya poison bro?"

I hoped the queue was six deep. "Ah, a Jack, straight up."

"Another Sauvignon for the lady?" The lady nodded happily. He lumbered away fishing for his wad. I didn't bother to offer.

"Are you okay honey?" My wife inquired. "You look a little off color. You don't mind me dancing do you? I like to dance and Matt is a pretty good dancer, isn't he?!" She appeared excited; certainly showing no apparent concern for my 'color'.

"No, it's fine, but I don't feel too good. Can we go?"

"Oh honey, we just got here and we're going to eat. If you really want you can go, but I'd like to stay and talk and have some fun. I can get Matt to drop me off home if you want?"

Off course that's the last thing I'd want, to leave her here with the piranha! I wanted to ask her to sit with me, but that only sounded clingy and insecure. I hoped she'd to do it on her own accord, and actually want to be sitting by my side... not over there... with...

"Here we go, drinks all round."

So much for the long queue... shit! I accepted my scotch with another rendition of that plastic smile as asshole sank back in beside my Rebecca.

"Thank you Matty." She chirped and kissed his cheek. I experienced another of those now familiar cold shudders. My wife sipped her wine and checked me over the top of the flute's rim. Did I detect a glimmer in her wondrous eyes?

The evening progressed. We talked; well mostly they talked non-stop shop, discussing various aspects of different scenes and how they thought it had developed. Both seemed concerned about Rebecca's on-screen character's husband, played by David Bell.

"He seems edgy and stiff." Rebecca commented. "When we interact close he's all fidgety and distant. We have no chemistry together whatsoever, at least nothing like you and I have." She cooed and actually giggled! "I think something's NQR. When we kiss during a scene he's nervous and twitchy. Barry keeps having too cut and explain to him that his character, as yet, has no idea that his wife's fucking another man behind his back, and that he needs to feel comfortable and relaxed when we make out. Honestly Matt, kissing him is like smooching a lump of four by four pine! Barry's pretty frustrated with him, and we only got through the scene yesterday because I turned his head away from the camera when we made out and I think that saved the shot."

"Yeah, I know, and Barry told me he'd sack his ass if his character wasn't so embedded. At least you have no bedroom scenes with him!" Matt smirked at me over his beer. Grrr...

Rebecca chuckled. "We'll be doing those love scenes in the next episode and I'll be topless! You'll love that bab... err... Matt." Her quick glance my way confirmed the slip. Another cold quiver crawled up my spine. "Barry wants it to look realistic, so I said it would be okay for you to touch me, you know..." She smiled shyly and kept looking into his eyes, like a besotted puppy. "My nipples might give away my excitement though."

"Oh don't worry baby," the ape replied, "I intend to take full advantage of my situation." That smirk nearly had me up! My fists were clenched beneath the table. Matt didn't even look my way! "My problem will be 'harder' than yours to hide, trust me. You're excited state can be blamed on the cold air in the studio, my problem is the exact opposite!" They both laughed raucously!

Grrrr...

We ate; well they ate. My food tasted so bland cardboard would have tasted quite delicious.

"So am I allowed to suck your nipples, or is that going too far?" Matt inquired nonchalantly.

"Oh, I'll ask Barry, but it should be okay." Rebecca took another mouthful of salad before continuing. My jaw wouldn't work. "He said touching and fondling my tits while we make out would be fine, and if we're trying for authenticity then I would assume sucking on my nipples and playing with them would be a certain requirement."

"Great, I can't wait to sample those delicious little nubs of yours." He grinned like a jackal and eyed said nubs as they tried to punch through the light fabric of the LBD.

"Hey you, my eyes are up here! You'll get to see them on set, so stop that!" She playfully slapped his arm and leaned into him more noticeably.

Fuckkkk...

"Can I at least cop a feel? Just to familiarize myself?" He said that playfully!

"You better ask my husband. If he says it's alright, then I guess..."

Shit, they both looked at me; the smiles on both faces indicated something disturbing. I gulped!

"You are kidding..." I squirmed like an eel. I know I was blushing. They were just pulling my strings, weren't they? Shit, they were both pretty good actors, and their current demureness suggested seriousness tinged with a 'get out of jail card'; a slight smile of playfulness. Just the idea of him, the smug shithead, touching my beautiful girl had me frothing and seething within, but my bloody dick was propping up the table! I tried to smile. "Yeah, good one guys. You touch her Matt and I'll shove this fork so far down your throat you'll have three holes in that dick of yours and you'll piss like a sprinkler!"

Yes he laughed, but it was not a laugh of merriment, more the laugh to cover fear! I think he could see I was quite serious.

My wife attempted to make light. "Oh Kevin, we were just messing about, stop taking everything so seriously mister grumpy bum. You better let go of your jealousy, because... and you wrote the script... Matt and my character's will be spending a lot of time in bed together, and he will be playing with my tits honey." She reached over and for the first time that night she clasped my sweating hand in hers. "I might even be naked under the covers darling. We want the love scenes to look real and believable. You do want the show to succeed, don't you lovely?" My hand was shaking now, in tune with every nervous fiber jumping about in my super-heated body. Rebecca just smiled again. "Would it be alright if Matt fingered my naked little pussy under the covers? No one would even know, but It would keep me aroused and my 'projection' would be enhanced. I think that would be a good idea honey." She leaned into Matt and he turned his head and their lips met briefly. I could almost see the bolt of electricity spark between them! I'm sure my side of the table jacked up another inch. I really hated this mother... She turned back to me and winked! "Now, come on Mathew, I want another dance before I have to take mister no fun grumpy britches home."

I just sat there too stunned to utter a word. The big smug prick guided my stunning wife onto the dance floor, pulled her in close against the cannon silhouetted at his crotch, and they floated seamlessly away as she pressed those spiked pebbled nipples into that obvious hard washboard chest bulging beneath the dress shirt and tie. I regretfully imagined those rubbery nubs rubbing up and down the rippled surface of said washboard, pinging back and forward like little pencil erasers. I felt dizzy watching them conversing up close, smiling and nodding and then either or both would occasionally glance my way as if to confirm my subservience and acceptance of this shocking and now publicly exposed dynamic.

What the...!

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"So, did you enjoy your evening?" My wife purred. Okay so I was still grumpy, but her attention to my cock was diversifying thought; fragmenting reality. She swallowed me whole, sucked hard and drew back upward only to dart her tongue out and do that 'thing' she does just beneath the tip. I almost detonated! Think cold lumpy custard, stringy rhubarb... "Don't pretend you didn't enjoy me teasing you honey. I could see how turned on you were, and this big boy has been rock hard for hours, hasn't he?" More big long slurps ensued as my eyeball dropped back into my brain cavity.

Lambs brains with cold...

"Ooohhh..."

"Yes that's mommy's good boy, that's it, just relax and picture your little wife squirming beneath her co-star as he sucks on her soft tits, and pushes a big finger up her..."

"AAAHHhhH!" I nearly chocked, confused between the in-take of air and trying to scream simultaneously! I blew my load and I could hear my delighted wife cackling somewhere out in the void of space! When I regained some semblance of human composition I propped up on jelly elbows and my glazed vision watched in fascinated haze as my perfect woman mopped the mess from my stomach and groin with a hand towel.

"Wow, that was a good one honey! Now that we've relieved the pressure, let's get him powered up again. My puss is bubbling!" She giggled again. "I love teasing you mister. You're so predictable!"

I collapsed backward totally fucked... and in more ways than one I suspected.

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