The Side Project
Copyright© 2026 by The Side Project
Chapter 13: Reed- Non-Billable Hours
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 13: Reed- Non-Billable Hours - 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 Fa/Fa Mult Consensual BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Cheating Slow Illustrated
Author’s Note: Hopefully this is clear, but chronologically this is what Reed was up to on the Monday described from Lexi’s perspective in Chapter 12.
I put on my favorite suit Monday morning and packed a small bag with casual clothes, ready for another big day. First would be a little chat with one of the senior partners I liked and trusted to get a recommendation on a financial advisor. Then what I was really relishing: my glorious resignation from the firm. I badly wanted to rub in Jimbo’s face what an amazing time I’d had with Katrina the day before, but she had asked me to remain discreet and I would respect her wishes. Besides, why foreclose a possible avenue of fun at a time when I would have nothing but opportunities for fun in exchange for a fleeting moment of taunting revenge on Jimbo? The better course, obviously, was to just keep fucking his wife. The ultimate revenge.
I had rented a suite at the Marriott Marquis with a window overlooking the Texas-shaped pool for the evening. I had confirmed Katrina would join me there for lunch. She could not stay the night because of Jimbo, but I figured I might be able to call on Ashley, or even Marissa, to keep me company overnight.
For now, I had business to attend to. The morning crawled by, even though I hadn’t bothered to get into the office until 9:30. My first meeting was delayed by fifteen minutes, but the information I got out of it was valuable. I had a rock solid financial advisor recommendation. And then the waiting game began. I had made a 10:30 appointment with Jimbo. When I showed up at his office, the door was closed, and I could hear his voice roaring through the closed door, probably grandstanding for a client. His secretary said she would ping me with a chat when Jimbo was done.
Eleven o’clock came and went. I started to get agitated. I needed to get to the hotel by noon. Katrina was supposed to meet me at 12:30. I didn’t have time for Jimbo’s favorite game – the power play where he forced subordinates to wait around for him until he was ready. Well, I didn’t have to play Jimbo’s favorite game or any of his games anymore. So once 11:15 came and went, I just walked over to his office and opened the door. Predictably, he was no longer on a call.
“Reed, did we have a meeting?” he said, barely looking up from the notepad he scribbled on. The dinosaur still took all his notes by hand.
“Forty-five minutes ago,” I said, curtly.
“The client always comes first,” he said. “I think I can squeeze you in before my next call. Can’t imagine it’s terribly important.”
“Yeah,” I said, my tone hardening. “This won’t take long.”
“What do you need?” he asked, the impatience impossible to keep from his voice.
“Well, this isn’t billable time, so I’m going to cut right to the chase, Jimbo,” I said. I had decided to forego any grand speech. I had better things to do, and there was no reason to give this firm or Jimbo more of my time than they had already stolen. “Jimbo, I’ve had a change in circumstances. Today is going to be my last day at the firm. Actually, this is going to be my last meeting. I’ve got lunch plans that will take up the rest of my day. But I didn’t want to just ghost you. Thanks for the experience. I’ve got new opportunities that will, uh, fill my time.”
“You’re not serious,” Jimbo said, equal parts bored and indignant.
“Afraid I am, Jimbo,” I said and stood up. “But you’ve got my cell number. Or your secretary does. If something is truly urgent, I may be able to carve out some time for it. But I’m really going to be buried for at least the rest of today.”
“This is pretty sudden,” Jimbo said, “but I’ve got to jump on this next call.”
I rolled my eyes as I stood up. Always too important to be a human being. Jimbo was a classic lawyer to the end. Fuck him, I thought to myself. Then, as I buttoned my suit jacket and walked out of his office, I corrected that thought. No, I said silently, fuck his wife.
I stopped by my office to grab the single box of personal belongings that I’d packed earlier. I left my office access card and laptop behind. Walking out without them was perhaps the greatest feeling of liberation I had ever experienced. I’d dedicated years of my life to this place. Determined to make it to the top. Now it all seemed like a colossal waste of time.
Ten minutes later, I pulled into the valet at the Marriott Marquis, quite over such philosophical considerations. It was time to kickstart the next phase of my life. I grabbed my small overnight bag from the trunk and went to the front desk. I’d completed online check-in but still had to show my ID and pick up the room key.
I saw myself in the reflection of the polished metal in the elevator as it whisked me above downtown Houston. I smiled. I could see the relief in my face. Then I felt my phone buzz.
“Five minutes away,” Katrina had texted. The message noted it was sent using talk-to-text.
“Room 2733,” I texted back to her.
It was at the far end of the hallway, facing south. The corner suite had a great view of the Texas-shaped pool, along with a clear view to the east and the industrial mess of Pasadena. I was more crunched for time than I had planned to be, so I called room service and had them send up a couple appetizers and a bottle of Dom Perignon, only $375 plus an 18% service fee and some other charges. What did I care? I was rich. I was unemployed. And I was about to fuck my nightmare of an ex-boss’s stunning wife.
While waiting for Katrina to arrive, I surveyed the room. The minibar would be a decent resource if the Champagne didn’t arrive fast enough. It was a gorgeous, almost crisp November day in Houston. The sun shone into the suite. I put my overnight bag in the closet of the bedroom after putting my toiletries in the bathroom. There was a massive shower. Too bad it didn’t have multiple heads, I thought, but it should still work nicely for a repeat performance of my last shower tryst with Katrina. That’s when I heard the knock on the door.
I nearly bounded over to answer it. I pulled open the heavy door and nearly lost my breath. Katrina looked every bit of the trophy wife she was. She looked almost like she was dressed for tennis, but it was way sexier than anything you’d wear on a court. She wore a seamless skirt-top combination. The skirt was pleated and beige leather. The top was ostensibly a polo shirt in style but buttoned-down, with cream and beige stripes. It was stylish and incredibly sexy, especially combined with the four-inch heels she wore that emphasized how outrageously shapely her legs were. She had a large tote-style purse on her shoulder and stepped into the room with grace and confidence.
“Did you dress up all for me, Reed?” she said, her words dripping with seduction. “I love a man in a suit.”
“I doubt you’ve had a shortage of men in suits around you,” I said and greeted her by putting my arms around her waist and kissing her.
“Only a shortage of interesting and handsome ones,” she said playfully.
“Well, all you need is one,” I said.
“Today anyway,” Katrina said whimsically. “But I’ve seen the suit, so now let’s get you out of it.”
Immediately, a different kind of tennis match got underway, one that required only one racket and two balls. I tightened my grip around Katrina’s waist, and her arms wrapped around my neck. We melted way too easily into a deep kiss. Katrina was as eager and as hungry as I was. In a flurry of needy activity, she sloughed off my suit coat, then went to work loosening the knot of my tie. When it hit the floor, she began to unbutton my shirt. At the same time, I reached my hands under her leather skirt. Then I pulled back to grin at her – she wasn’t wearing panties, and her pussy had leaked all over her inner thighs.
“You’ve been wanting this haven’t you?” I said.
“Ever since I left your apartment,” she said.
“Not getting it at home, huh?” I pushed on the cheating aspect of this encounter.
“Almost never,” Katrina said, and I noticed her tone became slightly acerbic. “He prioritizes his mistress anyway, but let’s not talk about her.”
I honored that request and started to pop open the prominent, wooden buttons that were on the front of her top. At the same time, she undid my belt and skillfully unfastened all the various buttons holding the trousers up. Katrina was no stranger to undressing a man in a suit, and I wondered briefly if I truly was the first employee of Jimbo’s that she had slept with.
“I’d much rather talk about this big, beautiful dick,” Katrina said.
I had wanted to start this encounter by showing off my oral skills to Katrina, but before I could even react she was on her knees again in front of me. Before I had a chance to protest my semi-hard cock was in her mouth and I was overtaken by the sensation of pleasure. This woman loved sucking cock, and she made that clear in no uncertain terms once again as she sank to the plush hotel carpet.
“I was really hoping to eat you out,” I managed to say through my dry throat.
“Sure,” Katrina said as her tongue ran along the underside of my shaft. “Let me get you warmed up, and you can see how wet sucking dick makes me.”
“Fuck, Katrina, your mouth is outrageous,” I said. “It feels so good.”
“It’s like tennis, Reed,” she said. “It requires lots of practice. I’m dedicated to my Craft.” She giggled at the double entendre reference to her spousal name.
She took me fully down her throat and started bobbing back and forth. This woman gave head like it was a joyous occasion. I just closed my eyes and enjoyed it. It was easily a top-five blow job I had ever received. Probably top three. Maybe top two.
“Oh, fuck,” I groaned.
Katrina had switched from deep throating me to bathing my balls with her tongue and sucking them into her mouth. She used just the right amount of pressure and massaging. Okay. Maybe it was top-one in my blow job rankings. I let her continue for a couple more minutes, and I realized this could end embarrassingly quickly if she continued.
“I want to eat you out, Katrina,” I said.
She immediately pulled her mouth off my cock and, smiling, said, “You’re close, aren’t you?”
I nodded meekly.
“Okay, handsome,” she said. “Show me what you can do.”
I hadn’t managed to fully remove Katrina’s clothes before she had blown me. So I started with that. The skirt went first, smoothly dropping to the floor, and my mouth watered at the sight of her perfectly smooth pussy. Her shirt, unbuttoned and framing her generous tits gorgeously, I left untouched, but the bra had to go. Her breasts were simply too magnificent to leave covered any longer than decorum would allow. I helped her to the bed, and she laid down, leaving her legs hanging over the edge.
The positioning wasn’t lost on me. Twice now Katrina had dropped to her knees in front of me. Now it was my turn to be on my knees in front of her. That was not a problem. I knelt like I was about to worship at an altar. A blissfully sinful altar. I took a brief moment to admire Katrina’s beautiful pussy. The compact lips and pink folds drew me in, almost as much as the glistening moisture that shone from her pussy to her inner thighs. Her body was begging for it, so I dove in tongue first.
Katrina was delicious. The faint scent and taste of a floral bath soap indicated she was hygiene conscious, something I now took careful notice of after my recent Ashley experience. Katrina was no Ashley. My tongue glided over her skin and drank up the nectar her body gave off. She indicated her approval with low, sexy moans. When I finally focused attention on her clit, her pleasured sounds raised an octave, and she put her hands behind my head, pushing me into her mound.
“God, Reed, yes!” she moaned. “Right there.”
I didn’t obey her. I let my tongue probe deeper inside her, then took long, circuitous licks up each side of her lips before flicking clit again. She noticed.
“You’re a tease,” she said.
“You taste so good,” I said, then went back to work.
After several minutes of amused exploration, teasing her and bringing her to a higher edge of pleasure before backing off again, I finally focused on her clit. I made my tongue thick and drew circles around it, then flattened my tongue and gave long, smooth, slow licks across it. Katrina shuddered. I loved how much feedback her body gave. I could tell she was close, so I took a chance, which was motivated by wanting to find out more about her body and how it responded to various ... inputs.
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