• Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Loving Wives
  • /
  • A Rush of Blood to the Head

A Rush of Blood to the Head

123

"Lucy!"

I sighed and ripped off my sunglasses. "Yeah?"

Mark was still in his suit when he marched out. He'd loosened his tie on his way home from work. An obvious sign of stress from him.

"Why the fuck aren't you getting ready?"

My fingers skimmed down my slick collarbone. Mark traced the movement with his eyes, but he wouldn't be distracted. He glared, waiting for my response.

"Ready for what?"

He groaned. "The dinner, Lucy. The dinner I've talked about all fucking week."

I slid my sunglasses back on. "I told you to come up with some excuse for me. Tell them I have a migraine or whatever."

"So help me God, if you aren't up and in the shower in one minute I will lose my shit."

"Ooo," I mocked. "These dinners are horrible. The men are dull as fuck and I hate their wives."

Mark grinned and walked over to stroke my hair. "Yeah, yeah. They hate you, too. How can they not, when you look like you do?"

I brought his hand down and nibbled on his fingers. "Careful. You're about to pay me a compliment."

His other hand went to his fly.

My eyebrows lifted. "What about dinner?"

"We can be late."

A few seconds later his cock popped out--shiny and amber-colored, thanks to my sunglasses. I palmed it. How odd I still found cocks, even after all these years, even after all the sticky fumbling in the back of used Toyotas. They were just hard cylinders with bulging veins. Ugly, really. But I loved them all the same. I loved running my hands over them, jacking them off until they emitted my prize. It was the ultimate pat on the shoulder. If they came on my chest, I'd think with a smirk that it was my badge of honor.

Mark grew impatient and pulled my hair. "Give me head."

"We're going to be late."

He laughed. "A blow job is reason enough to miss appetizers."

"The way I blow you, you'll be lucky enough to make it to coffee."

He pressed his cock to my lips. "All this talk. Swallow my cock, Lucy."

I licked the sides of his cock first. It made me laugh to see how his face changed, how in this minuscule way I held such startling power. His eyebrows scrunched down, his mouth dropped open, his hands fisted. How miraculous my mouth could be to a man, just by using my tongue.

I flattened my tongue against his head. My hands lifted, grasping his heavy balls.

"Fuuuuck," he moaned.

I sucked him in, contracting the inside of my cheeks around him. His hands tightened in my hair when he felt the velvet of my cheeks rubbing against his hardness.

"Been thinking about this all day."

"Really?" I asked, pulling away. "I thought you'd been thinking of dinner all day."

He became impatient and fisted my hair. "Open up that smart mouth."

I did as he asked. The blow job was sloppy. Saliva ran down my cheek, finding its home down inside my cleavage. He eventually became wild and impatient, fucking my mouth. His hands squeezed my tits, caressed my head, pet my cheek.

"I'm gonna come," he eventually grunted.

I swallowed all of him down and wiped my mouth. He loved it when I drank his cum with one swallow.

Mark zipped up his pants, tucked in his shirt. He even straightened his tie. "You have fifteen minutes to fix yourself up."

____

I emerged closer to a half hour later. My dress was salmon-colored, and honestly was too scant for a business diner. Mark barely reacted when I rushed downstairs, however, so I assumed it wasn't a big issue.

The drive over was silent. A valet stood outside Nick's house. Mark flicked a twenty at the valet and ushered me inside, an insistent hand at my lower back.

The first time I met Nick and his wife, she made a forever impression on me. He was about 5'6; Denise neared 6 feet. Her hair was bleach blonde and she was far too skinny to be considered healthy. She only ever wore blue, and she did not disappoint this night. Her dress was a clinging silk, sparkling near the bust. She was at least a decade older than me, but when she spoke she sounded as though she were three decades younger.

Her hands were even fucking gloved when they accepted mine. "Lucy," she smiled. "So glad you could make it.'

"How are you, Denise?"

We chitchatted about nothing for a few minutes. The other women waved hello as enthusiastically as their acting skills would permit. The truth of the matter was that the other ladies, as plastic and boring they might have been, outclassed me. They came from wealthy families, bosses or business partners. My father was a plumber and my mother was a teacher. I didn't see them much anymore.

I caught a few of the men giving me blatant appraisals. I smiled at a few of them, basking in the attention. Plus, if it pissed off a few of the Barbies it was worth it.

"Have you met Luke yet?" Denise asked with a naughty grin.

I grabbed a flute of champagne off a server's tray. "Luke?"

One of the other wives--Patricia--moved closer to us. "You haven't met Luke yet? Oh, you're going to die."

I rolled my eyes. They were acting the same way they did when David joined the firm. The ladies went crazy over him until they found out he was gay. He was handsome, intelligent, sarcastic and belligerent. And my best friend.

He came to these functions less and less, however, and more often than not I was left to fend for myself. I looked around hopefully, hoping to spot him. Patricia laughed and assumed I was trying to find Luke.

"He's not here yet." When I gave her a look, she mouthed, "Luke."

"Well, is David coming tonight?"

Denise finished off her glass of champagne. "He's inside, somewhere. And Luke will be here in time for dinner. Patricia has a bit of a crush--"

"We all have a bit of a crush," Patricia interjected, her cheeks red. "Don't pretend he hasn't entered your fantasies, too."

Ew. I repressed a shudder and shot Mark a glare. He tipped his glass at me. It didn't seem fair that I be subjected to these women when he got to stand with his legs spread, a nice cigar in hand, and talk about whatever he pleased.

"Wait until you see him, Lucy. Seriously--he's a killer," Denise giggled.

Patricia looked me over. "Mark didn't say anything about him?"

I was tired of hearing about some guy who was going to end up being a carbon copy of most of the men here, even if he was hot.

I opened my mouth, intent on saying so, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. David was behind me, looking as dapper as ever. I gave him a big hug-- a rarity for me.

"Thank God you're here," I whispered in his ear.

"Well, we're going inside to check on the food. See you in a bit," Denise said, dragging Patricia behind her.

David watched them run inside with a smile. "They're off to talk about us."

The girls never entirely bought that David was gay when they saw what good friends we became, and how David rarely spared them a "hello". They became convinced we were having an affair.

"Ugh, I'm so sick of them already tonight. They keep going on and on about Luke. Speaking of which, how come you haven't mentioned this new guy to me? You've never spared me the details when a sexy guy enters your orbit."

David's smile faded and he rolled his eyes. "That's because I don't find him sexy. He's a prude, really."

"How so?"

"You'll see what I mean." Then David smiled and pinched my stomach. "What's new with you, baby? Has Mark persuaded you to let him knock you up yet?"

I shuddered. "No. I haven't stopped taking the pill, either."

For the past year, Mark dropped hints he wanted to start a family. Most of the other lawyers in the firm had children already, and Mark refused to be outdone. I managed to talk him into waiting, but with every day he became increasingly impatient. And Mark always got his way.

David glanced at Mark with raised eyebrows. "Does he know that?"

"Hell, no. He'd flip a shit."

"You gotta have kids sometime. It's in the rulebook of domesticity."

I took his arm and walked with him inside. "Is taking another guy's cock up your ass in the rulebook, too?"

David threw his head back laughing. "Not quite, you little bitch."

Of course Denise had a seating arrangement. I looked around for my name on one of her exquisite plates. She sat me next to Laura, the resident druggie. She was always beyond stoned. The other women sometimes bummed Xanax off of her. I stayed away, never finding people who I couldn't have an intelligent conversation with of use to me.

"Looks like we're as far away from one another as possible," David sighed.

"You'll come over and talk to me later, right?"

He kissed my hand. "You know it."

I sat down, threw my napkin over my lap and rubbed my temples. It was going to be a long night. I flicked my gaze over to the name card on the plate next to me and shook my head. I was seated next to the famous Luke, who was late. That meant everyone would be watching him--and by extension, me.

Then the girls' giggles grew in volume and I knew he'd arrived. He wandered into the room and a great silence fell.

Truth be told, I'd expected a blonde and blue-eyed guy with ruddy cheeks and a boy-next-door, innocent kind of aura.

But he was a tall man with a sharp nose, a grim mouth and eyes as black as night. The light shone against them, making their glow appear cruel and alien. They were fathomless as they swept across the room, touching on each face with the barest amount of reaction.

Nick stepped forward and shook his hand. "Luke, thanks for coming, buddy!"

I felt like I was in some lame movie set in the '50's with terrible acting and models desperately trying to become actresses.

The girls sat down, buzzing with anticipation as Nick brought Luke around, introducing or reintroducing him to his guests. Everyone made a spectacle of themselves, even the men. I heard someone whisper that his father was an incredibly powerful judge. That was probably a big reason why Luke seemed like Jesus to everyone, and helped me understand why they were all awed by him. His demeanor, however, was enough to intimidate me.

I was last on the introduction round. Nick gestured towards me with a smile. "And here is Mark's wife, Lucy. She's a good friend."

Luke looked me over and seated himself without a word. Nick clapped his hands together, hiding his discomfort with enthusiasm. That out-of-body movie set vibe came back to me.

"Awesome, introductions made. Let's get to dinner. Everybody, get your glasses filled up!"

After a few minutes when it became clear Luke wasn't going to strike up a conversation, I turned to him and plastered on my best smile. I was curious; sue me. "How do you like the firm?"

His eyes didn't waver from the steak in front of him. "Fine."

"You're getting along with everyone? Because I know Mark can be--"

"Everyone is fine."

My smile grew. "You really are a lawyer. You reek of evasiveness and artificial politeness."

He finally shifted in his seat and paid me attention. "You don't sound particularly fond of lawyers. Interesting considering your husband is one of the best."

I was about to say something else but I was interrupted by Patricia, whose eyes were shooting daggers at me even though her lips were tipped up in a botoxed smile.

"So, Lucy. Mark tells me you guys are trying to have a baby. It's about time. You can join the Mommy Club." She grinned over at Denise, who was attempting to hide her snicker behind her napkin. "I think you're the only couple left who hasn't had a kid by now."

Mark laughed. "Don't worry. Lucy can never stand not fitting in for long."

Some of the men chuckled. Patricia's husband Bruce gave me an appreciative once-over. "Like it would be some hardship for you, Mark."

Yuck.

"As much as I love flattering Lucy," David cut in, "I'd much rather gossip about the McDermott case." I gave him a grateful smile.

This effectively changed the subject, though I still felt Luke watching me. He leant closer to my ear. "Do they always talk like this?"

"Pretty much." When he looked disappointed, I put down my knife and fork. "I hope you weren't expecting an intelligent discourse on politics or something. Because that doesn't happen here. They talk shop, or they pit each other's wives against each other."

"Lucky for me I don't have a wife, then." He noticed my wine glass was nearly empty and poured me some more. "Your husband talks about you a lot."

"Really?" I was legitimately astonished. Mark wasn't a gushy kind of guy. I couldn't imagine what he'd have to say about me. "What does he say?"

His lips curved in a smile. I finally understood why the other ladies were attracted to him. Charismatic, quiet, tall, dark... and he had a wonderful smile. I sensed an undercurrent to him, though, something thirsty and scheming.

"Mostly he complains about you, but it seems like it's in an affectionate way."

"How kind of you. You're actually trying to make him sound good." I sipped my wine. "No need to sell me on him. We're already stuck with each other for life."

He laughed. "God, you guys really are like fodder for those real housewives TV shows. I thought Nick was kidding."

"Nick glamorizes us. If you want the truth, go to Mark. He'll just say we're miserable bitches that no one would want to watch, which is mostly true. We're boring."

Luke cut into his steak, smiling. "If you say so."

"Are you guys badmouthing me?" Mark called out.

Everyone laughed. This was an old joke; Mark said it often at parties, dinners, etc. Usually it meant I was embarrassing him in some way. I supposed I was paying too much attention to Luke.

I gave him a smile. "Of course."

"Don't believe her, Luke. She's on medication."

Everyone tittered, sharing knowing glances. We were all on medication of some sort. That was the joke, really.

Luke didn't get it. I could tell he thought it was odd, this baiting, aggressive way we had amongst ourselves. I understood what David meant, though I wouldn't sum it up as Luke being prudish. More like he was just a nice guy. Whatever that was.

Nick took over the table's conversation. The topic did turn political, but the men screamed over each other, calling this guy a commie or that guy a bleeding heart. It turned tedious.

Denise eventually gave Nick a kiss on the cheek, stood with a great flourish and announced she was headed to the kitchen. Patricia and the other ladies stood. I knew I had to get up and it sucked. Denise would probably talk about how her youngest baby was killing her nipples, or Patricia would complain about how Bruce looked at the babysitter.

Before I stood, Luke touched my arm. "Is it really always like this?"

I gave him a rueful smile. "Unfortunately."

"At least you're here," he said. It sounded more like a relieved confession than a come-on.

I sensed David's eyes on me. He seemed amused, the prick.

"I'm not great company. I'm probably the worst here."

He didn't have a chance to answer. Patricia took one of my arms, Denise held on to the other.

"Girl talk, Luke. You wouldn't be interested," Denise giggled.

The girls brought me to the kitchen and, as expected, let go of me as soon as they possibly could. They formed a little circle with a few of the other wives-- vapid, trophy brides that thrived on gossip and prescription meds. They loved to remind me I wasn't like them. It didn't bother me.

I drifted off and went to Nick's study. I knew he wouldn't mind; I typically went through his study and read his books, left him nasty notes in his drawers. Denise hated that I was allowed in there.

I was admiring his new desk when I heard someone clear their throat. Luke stood in the doorway, watching me.

"Are you supposed to be in here?"

"Are you?" I parried back. "I thought it was sacrilege to leave Mark when he rants about work."

He smiled and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms against his chest. "It got a little too Harvard for me in there."

I was genuinely surprised. "Are you a Columbia guy, then?"

He laughed. "Nope. SUNY Albany."

My mouth dropped open. He gave me a teasing smirk. "Wow, you're as snobby as the rest of them."

"No! Not at all... I'm just surprised."

He walked a few steps and thumbed through one of Nick's law books. "I have an influential father. It makes up for my alma mater in their eyes."

I sat in the desk chair and twirled around.

"What about you? Wesley?"

I stuck my tongue out.

"Villanova?"

"Nope. Hunter College in the city. I come from humble beginnings, you could say. My dad's a plumber." I didn't typically talk about that, though everyone knew it. I wanted to provoke Luke. Set him off his axis for some bizarre reason.

He stuck his hands in his pockets. Something changed in his expression. "Now it's my turn to be surprised. At the risk of sounding like a snob, how'd you end up with Mark? I thought it was a wife prerequisite to be a debutante."

I got up and circled around him. "It is, but we met at a college party. My charm won him over. His money won my heart."

He didn't look like he believed me but he was too polite to press it. He smiled because he had to, since I was "obviously" kidding. I didn't like that he could read me so well.

The real story was that Mark and I married because we had to. It was the oldest story in the world. I got pregnant and he came from a long line of men who "did the right thing". We had a June wedding. In August I lost the baby. So clichéd, really, but it was the truth. He wouldn't dare divorce me after; people would suspect the truth and there would be talk. And by then we were used to one another, for better or for worse.

"You are kind of weird, you know."

Luke's words jolted me out of my bad memories. "What?"

"In the brief time I've known you, you've admitted to kind of hating your life, you've told me your dad is a plumber and you've suggested you're some social climber. I'm fascinated."

We joked for a while. I started noticing things--the way his hair fell against his forehead, his unnaturally long eyelashes, the strength in his forearms. A peculiar sense of attraction overwhelmed me. I hadn't felt such a longing in quite a while. It knocked me off kilter.

Luke suffered from the same discomfort. I realized he was ogling my cleavage. He took a few opportunities to lean down and whisper things close to my ear.

"You must be kidding. You don't know how to ride a bike?!"

I shook my head and smiled helplessly. "Nope."

"That's... unpatriotic."

A laugh bubbled from my chest. "Unpatriotic? Are you kidding?"

He bit his lip to keep from smiling. "It was the first word that came to mind. What I guess I meant was unnatural."

"I had a weird childhood."

He smelled delicious--a mixture of cologne and man. I unconsciously bent towards him. He was a bizarre dichotomy. Half boy scout, half scrutinizing, clever man, he was as different from his partners as I was from the women. Obviously he was superior to the guys, whereas I was just...different. I couldn't recall ever having a conversation with them that wasn't superficial and not laced with innuendo.

"Knock, knock." Mark stood by the door. I'd forgotten myself and was too close to Luke. I took a giant step back. "Are you two hiding out?"

"Caught us," I breathed.

"I expected it of you, Lucy, but Luke? I'm shocked." He came to me and put his arm around my waist. "What's my wife chewing your ear off about?"

"The weather," Luke joked.

Mark offered him a slightly amused smile and then turned to look at me. "Lucy, mind giving us a minute? I need to talk to him about something we have to do Monday." I nodded and he slapped my ass. "Run along now, dear. Man talk."

It was something he'd done a million times. James Bond would have been proud. I'd laughed every time, barely registering it. Tonight I was embarrassed. My cheeks turned red and I couldn't look at Luke's face. It was humiliating to be reminded of my place in front of someone who I'd... respected. Who might have respected me.

123
  • Index
  • /
  • Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Loving Wives
  • /
  • A Rush of Blood to the Head

All contents © Copyright 1996-2023. Literotica is a registered trademark.

Desktop versionT.O.S.PrivacyReport a ProblemSupport

Version ⁨1.0.2+795cd7d.adb84bd⁩

We are testing a new version of this page. It was made in 18 milliseconds