The Side Project
Copyright© 2026 by The Side Project
Chapter 10: Reed - Covert Action
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 10: Reed - Covert Action - A couple of normal, if irreverent, middle class guys get the opportunity to answer the age old question: What would you do with your life if money was no object? A collaborative writing project written from multiple character perspectives.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Cheating Safe Sex Slow Illustrated
“I was mostly an outside hitter in college, occasionally I’d moonlight as a middle blocker,” Marissa said.
“Oh neat, so you’re the one who scores the points, the, uh, kills, right?” I asked, remembering the terminology Kyle had taught me a few minutes ago, just in time.
“Yes, exactly.” Marissa smiled.
“You know Reed here went to A&M,” Kyle noted.
“Ewww, I’m not sure we can be friends then,” Marissa said, making a mock face of disgust.
“As is so often the case, my theoretical friend Ky, here, is misrepresenting the facts. The law school I graduated from has since been acquired by A&M. I would never attend such a disreputable institution,” I stated.
“Oh good, phew.” Marissa smiled, relieved. I sensed she was definitely interested.
“So if you played at Texas, would I be correct in surmising you are quite good at volleyball?” I asked.
“I mean, I guess it depends on how you define good, right? Was I the best player on my team? Not by a long shot. Was I on a team that was the national title runner up? Yep. Was I good enough to ever sniff the Olympic team? No. Was I good enough to play a little bit professionally? Yes. I’ll let you be the judge,” Marissa said.
“I’m suitably impressed. Sounds to me like you’re a .1 percenter,” I noted. This woman was clearly very talented at at least one thing.
“I’ve never heard that expression,” Marissa admitted, her head was cocked to the side. She was curious.
“It just means you’re in the top 0.1% of what you do. If we were to take a sample of 1,000 people who play volleyball, it’s likely you would be the best based on your credentials. I always like people who are amongst the elite at what they do. I find them interesting and impressive,” I explained.
“That’s a cool philosophy, I like it. Do you think you’re a .1 percenter at anything?” Marissa asked.
“There is one area where I feel I’m particularly skilled, unfortunately it’s not something I can discuss for fear of ruining their budding little situationship.” I nodded at Lexi and Kyle. “Perhaps you would like to come around the corner to my place, I could offer you a demonstration?” I suggested.
“I’m intrigued, lead the way,” Marissa replied and stood up.
As we departed the bar I glanced over my shoulder. Kyle was looking at Lexi, completely awestruck.
We continued to make casual chit-chat while we made the one-and-a-half block walk to my apartment. This was all pretty bold, even by my standards. I was down with some pretty debauched behavior, but I had been ostensibly set up by Lexi with a married woman who I basically had one-paragraph of information about. I kept my cool, though, and I let Marissa walk up the stairs to my second-floor apartment first. She had incredibly long legs, showcased beautifully by the tight jeans she wore. Those jeans also happened to show off the very firm, athletic ass packed into them. She wore a royal-blue, short-sleeved top that hung loosely but clung just enough to see her small breasts.
I stepped in front of her to unlock my front door, then extended my arm to prop the door open for her as she walked inside. She took an audible, deep breath as she entered, so I decided to take the chivalrous route.
“You know, nothing has to happen that you don’t want to,” I said as the door clicked closed behind me. I made a point not to lock the deadbolt.
“Fuck that,” Marissa said, turning around and stalking toward me. She pushed me against the door and stuck her tongue down my throat. I couldn’t even really tell if she was a good kisser, but she sure as hell wanted it.
Holy fuck, I thought to myself, is this my life right now?
“Does your husband keep you locked in a cage?” I asked when she finally came up for air.
“He might as well,” she said. “He drinks so much, I don’t think he’s gotten his dick hard in a year, unless it’s after a UT football win.”
Hearing that gave me a sense of righteous indignation. What kind of man would leave a beauty like Marissa high and dry? Half a man. At best. If I had any moral qualms about what I wanted to do to Marissa, it went out the window when she told me that. If you ask me, the moral path was to plow this woman like a fertile, untilled field.
“You know, that wasn’t a fair comment,” I said. “Your husband doesn’t belong here.”
“And where is that?” Marissa said, running her hands down the front of my shirt. “Your apartment?”
“No,” I said before I kissed her deeply. “In your sex life.”
“You’re bad,” Marissa said.
“Just give me a chance,” I said.
“You don’t need a chance,” Marissa said, her body now coming dangerously close to me. Past the point of no return. “I need some fun, and you seem very, very fun from what Lexi told me.”
“Uh oh,” I said, letting my lips barely graze hers. “What did you hear?”
“Just that maybe you have a particular, um, skill with helping married women awaken their desires,” she said.
“Okay,” I said, my eyes dancing playfully in front of hers. “You heard right.”
Our lips met, and from that point, it was on. Marissa kissed like a maiden who, once she got a taste of what she’d been deprived of, was ready to surrender herself to full-fledged addiction to sins of the flesh. She was aggressive, and I didn’t do anything to dissuade her aggression. She pulled at my shirt. As soon as it hit the ground, she was tugging her own over her head. I pulled her into me and kissed her while I found the clasp of her bra. It was maybe the smoothest bra removal I’d ever conducted, and I couldn’t help but smile to myself at my lack of clumsiness. So I kept going and unbuttoned her jeans. She grinned at me, kicked off her shoes, and carefully stepped out of the tight denim. She wore royal blue, bikini cut panties that matched the color of her top. I wanted to slide those off, too, but I took a moment to take her in. Her walnut-like nipples were mesmerizingly hard. She was athletic and firm. She was a beautiful woman.