Trading Up - Cover

Trading Up

Copyright© 2017 by Xalir

Chapter 5

Drama Sex Story: Chapter 5 - John Hooker has an enviable life. A beautiful wife, a career as an architect, a hobby as a part-time MMA fighter that pays for itself and a little more. He lives in sunny California and doesn't have a care in the world, until his wife drops a bombshell on him that spirals his life out of control. How will life look when the dust settles and what parts of his life will be forever ruined? Even he doesn't know.

Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Sports   Tear Jerker   Cheating   Cuckold   Slut Wife   Polygamy/Polyamory   Anal Sex   Analingus   Cream Pie   Lactation   Oral Sex   Squirting   BBW   Big Breasts   Hairy   Revenge   Slow  

She hopped out and came to meet me with a kiss on the cheek suitable for close friends since we were in public. “So what did you want to talk about?” she asked as she led me to the front door. She retrieved the keys from the lock-box and opened the door.

“Partly, I wanted to tell you about the rest of my day last night,” I told her, “but I also wanted to bring up a suggestion that Barb made. I told her that the two of us probably wouldn’t have a chance to get together for more than conversation until we finalized on the house and she pointed out that you have a fully furnished place to play if we can’t find a place.”

She closed the door behind me and locked it before kissing me hard. I kissed her back and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her tight against me. When we finally came up for air, she was purring contentedly. “That sounds good to me,” she said with a lewd grin. “I can have you all to myself without worrying about erasing the evidence or getting back to the office. She’s really okay with that?”

I nodded. “She spent most of the weekend with Brad, so they’ve moved past the point where they keep it within office hours. I think she’s hoping that me being occupied will give her more opportunity to spend time with him.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” she nodded. “She didn’t bring Brad to your fight, did she? That would be terrible.”

“She never goes to see me fight,” I told her. “When I left for the event, she took off to be with him. God only knows how long they spent together. Yesterday, she was encouraging me to come here because she’d arranged to be with Brad in the afternoon.”

She nodded. “So where does that leave us?” she asked. “We arrange for you to stop by my place on your way home from work some nights?”

I nodded. “I think that’s a good start.” While we’d been talking, I’d been lifting her skirt a little bit at a time until I could fill my hands with her ass. “If your weekends are mostly free, we can get together then.”

She groaned as I started feeling her up. “You’re sure that’s not going to cut into her time?” she asked, distracted as my fingers found their way inside her panties.

“She doesn’t get my time anymore. The most we do together the past two months is housework,” I told her, my fingers tickling her entrance, finding her deliciously wet.

She finally pushed me away and climbed the stairs, unhooking her skirt as she went, hanging it on the banister before unbuttoning her blouse. “Then you should plan to spend Saturday afternoon at my place,” she said breathlessly as she shrugged out of her blouse and draped it over her skirt before stripping off her lingerie.

I kicked off my shoes and pulled my polo shirt over my head and dropped it at the top of the stairs as I approached her. She was already naked except for the pair of heels she was wearing and she crooked her finger, leading me to the bathroom. “Easier to clean up in a hurry,” she explained. She bent over the sink and spread her legs, looking over her shoulder at me invitingly as she wiggled her ass at me a little. “Save the slow and gentle for the weekend,” she told me. “For now, pound me like you’re on the clock.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said with a smile and rubbed my dick up and down her pussy. I’d struggled out of my pants in the hall so we were both naked. I felt my cock sink into her entrance a fraction of an inch and I pushed into her hard, making her grunt.

“Yeah!” she breathed, enthusiastically. “Fuck me!” We set a hard pace, both of us sweating slightly even though it was still well short of the midday heat. I pulled her back against me as I thrust forward, my thighs slapping against hers loudly as she groaned louder and more urgently. I gave her ass a playful spank and she growled loudly, whether in protest or arousal, I couldn’t say. I felt her pussy clench on my cock twice before I was ready to surrender to my own orgasm. This time, it was mine that set her off. She could feel my cock twitching and spewing its payload deep inside her and it sent her over the edge, grunting and swearing, shocking me that she was turned on by such filthy talk. I spanked her again and she screamed, her orgasm drawing out and intensifying even as my hips slowed to a crawl and then stopped, savoring the feeling of her muscles clenched on my softening shaft. I held her from behind, my hands finding her breasts and squeezing them gently while we recovered. I could see her eyes rolling up into her head as she basked in the glow of her orgasm. She reluctantly disengaged and sat on the toilet again to recover while my cum leaked out of her with a minimum of mess.

She looked up at me with a lazy smile and then pulled me close so she could suck on my wilted erection. She cleaned the evidence of our sex from my body and managed to suck me back to hardness in record time. “I don’t think we have time to fuck again,” she said, stroking it fondly while she looked up at me. “I can’t send you home like this though.” She wrapped her lips around me again and gave me a scorching blowjob, bringing me to the edge of another explosion with enviable skill. She knew the art of the blowjob.

“I’m gonna cum!” I warned her and she deliberately took hold of my ass, pulling me in closer so I couldn’t pull away. I groaned and shot my second load into her waiting mouth, overwhelmed by the sensation as she kept up the onslaught, like she wanted to make me cum a third time. She might have succeeded if not for the time-crunch we were under.

She finally released me, held her mouth open to show me that she’d kept my cum in her mouth, swirling it on her tongue before she swallowed.

I sat down on the edge of the tub weakly, cumming twice in a short time having wiped me out. I leaned over and kissed her deeply. I could taste my cum on her tongue, but what the Hell. It was MY cum. It wasn’t like kissing Barb and wondering if she was feeding me a hint of Brad with the kiss. The gesture surprised her and I could see her eyes widen for a second before she relaxed into the kiss, moaning into my mouth.

“You ARE a gem,” she told me. “Martin would never kiss me after a blowjob unless I brushed my teeth, rinsed with mouthwash and gargled first.”

I shrugged. “It’s my cum. No big deal. If it was someone else’s, that’s a different story.”

She nodded. “That must make kissing Barb a little dicey,” she pointed out.

“I haven’t had contact with her tongue since this all started,” I told her. “I hadn’t really considered that though. I just don’t have the interest in her to start getting frisky.”

She nodded and patted my cheek affectionately. “So you were going to tell me about the rest of your day,” she prompted me.

I nodded and told her about Barb pushing my buttons when I got home, the fight we’d had and me getting out of there before I could do something or say something I couldn’t take back.

“So you felt guilty when you got home?” she asked, surprised and a little hurt.

I took her hand in both of mine. “Not because of you or what we did,” I assured her. “I wouldn’t be here if that was it. I was feeling ashamed of myself because ... yesterday was the moment that I really gave up on my marriage. Until then, I’d held out the hope that Barb would come to her senses and come back to me. I let go of that hope in this house yesterday. Someday, probably someday soon, I’ll look back on that moment and feel like it was the moment when I reclaimed my life and freed myself from her clutches. I DID love her though and part of me wonders if I gave up on her too easily, too quickly. I’m not ashamed of you or what we did or what we did this morning or what we’re going to do in the future. It was just the moment that I broke my wedding vows. It was a big deal for me.”

She nodded at that and squeezed my hand. “I think I understand,” she said gently. “I cried for two days after I signed the divorce papers. I’d loved him. I wondered if there was something more I could have done to save our marriage. You have to understand that there’s nothing you could have done. She was committed enough to Brad to have him come to your hospital room, for crying out loud. She’s so far gone that you’d have to buy her a plane ticket to get her back into the marriage. I’m sorry to be so blunt about it, Stud, but I wished there’d been someone around to tell me this when I was wracking my brain in search of one more thing I could have done to keep Martin.”

I smiled at her. “I know. I’m still feeling the guilt, but I think I will for a while. It’s not your fault or anything you did. It’s just ... It would have been a lot easier if she’d died in a plane-crash or had just gotten up and walked out on me.”

“It might have been easier on you if she’d just told you that she didn’t love you anymore and left,” she admitted and patted my cheek again. “So you really put her in her place, huh?”

I nodded with a small smile. “Bad enough that she offered to talk to you today and call off the house and the offer. I told her that she wasn’t to talk to you about whether I continued to see you or not. She’s not in charge of that. For a miracle, I think she might have actually understood when I told her.”

“Since we made plans for the weekend, I assume that you’re not breaking up with me,” she said with amusement.

“I don’t see any reason to stop seeing each other,” I told her. “I certainly don’t want to stop seeing you. I trust you more than I trust my wife and I’ve felt like you’ve been more sensitive to how I feel than she is.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have to yell at me to get me to listen,” she scoffed with a chuckle.

“I’m saying it because you WANTED to listen to me and because you told me that their affair was the office joke. I appreciate the heads-up about that and it made me feel like you were in my corner. Now I know that I should probably avoid the office Christmas party,” I told her. “I let Barb know it was because I didn’t want to run into her lover, but really, I don’t want to deal with the reactions from the rest of the office either.”

She nodded. “Maybe I’ll skip it myself,” she said with a small shrug as she finished cleaning up and flushed before washing her hands.

“I wouldn’t want you to skip it on my account,” I said gently. “I’d rather you go and have a good time.”

“Last year was kind of crummy,” she told me. “It was right after the divorce and I was kind of a mess. I probably should have skipped it. I don’t even remember much of it. It was all a blur.”

I nodded. “Well, this year should be better. Barb and I went to last year’s, but we only put in an appearance before we left. I guess she didn’t want to risk putting me and Brad in the same room for any length of time.”

She chuckled. “Maybe you should tell her you know who Brad is and you and I should go to the party together,” she suggested, joking.

“If only,” I laughed and washed up before we returned to our clothes. “I get the sense that Barb will want to control who knows about you and me. Not that she showed a lot of discipline in keeping her own affair secret, but she’ll see this as different.”

She nodded, leading the way back to where we’d laid down all our clothes and she started getting dressed slowly. “I talked to the owners about your offer,” she said. “I’m not telling Barb, but between you and me, I think they might take it. If Barb asks, I’ll point out to her that it’s an insultingly low offer for the house and the area, which is true, but the asking price was so low that it creates the expectation that there’s something wrong with the property. That sort of works in your favor.”

I chuckled and started getting dressed too. “Turn the screws on her and let me know so I can watch?” I asked, amused.

“How fast do you want the house?” she asked simply.

“I’d love to have the keys now. I’ve thought it would be a great comfort to know that I could put a locked door between me and Barb for the past two months. Maybe not permanently, but last night, I’d have loved to have a place to crash so I didn’t have to go back to the house.”

“Well, I can’t arrange it quite THAT quick. It takes some time to close on a house, but if we can come to terms, I think we can have the keys in your hand before the end of the month,” she told me hopefully.

“Really?” I asked, surprised. “That’s fast.”

She shrugged. “I’ll go back to the office and tell Barb that we could dance or we could go to the bottom line and offer to take a no-negotiation price of $300,000 to the owners. I think they’ll jump at that and we can start the closing process before the end of the day.”

I nodded. “Sounds good,” I told her. “I’m starting to get excited about having the place set up how I want it.”

She nodded and promised to press Barb into the price. She checked her watch and grimaced. “I really do have to get going though. I have just enough time to talk to Barb about it and then talk it over with the owners before I have to go to another showing. If something like last night happens again, call me. You can crash with me if home is uncomfortable.”

I nodded and kissed her one last time before she fixed her lipstick in the hall mirror and then she let me out and locked up, putting the key back in the lock-box.

We separated and I headed off to my next stop of the day. The fight promoter for Saturday’s event was on the phone when I came into the offices. It was a small promotion, so the offices consisted of three offices, a conference room and a reception area. I was asking the receptionist to fit me in for a few minutes when I heard Denny Wheeler talking on the phone through his open door.

“No, he just walked in. His ears must have been burning. Hang on, I’ll grab him.” That sounded promising. He came to the door of his office and waved me over. “John! Get in here. There’s someone that wants to talk to you.”

I sighed, figuring that it was bad news. It was the only kind that I seemed to get. He handed me the phone and I reluctantly answered. “John Hooker,” I said crisply, embracing the moment.

“John!” said a jovial voice from the other end of the phone. “Damon Porter from UFC. How’re you feeling after your fight Saturday?”

“Mostly feeling lucky to be alive considering that Hastings must eat bigger meals than my weight,” I said dryly, giving Denny a dirty look.

“How DID you draw the short straw on that fight?” he asked.

“No idea,” I admitted. “My first clue that I was about to die was when he walked up to me on Saturday to introduce himself to me. I hadn’t been told I was fighting outside my weight class.”

“Really?!!?” he blurted. “You didn’t train for that specifically?”

“If they’d told me I was fighting someone that much larger, I would have told Denny to go fuck himself. Then I would have quit.”

“Well you put on a Hell of a show! Would you be interested in doing it again?”

“Fighting someone out of my weight class?” I clarified. “I don’t know. It’d have to be the offer of a lifetime, since it would probably BE the end of my lifetime.”

“You have a number I can call you on?” he asked. “I think we’ve abused Denny’s business line enough for one day.” I gave him my number, curious about what he was getting at. “Alright. I’ll call you right back on that line,” he promised and said goodbye.

I laid the phone back in its cradle and Denny seemed beside himself with anticipation. “Sounds like they want you to fight at the next level,” he said quickly. “You’re gonna need representation if you want to swim in that pond. Think about it. I’ve booked you some good fights.”

“Denny, you fucked me with that fight on Saturday. You sent me out there to get carved up like a pig,” I told him harshly. “If Hastings had his way, I’d be in a hospital bed right now. You set me up. Why would I throw you a piece of my contract if that’s what they want?”

I pulled out my phone as it rang and answered it, leaving Denny standing there trying to think of something to say as I left the office and walked through the reception area. It was Damon. “Hi, John,” he said. “I figured I’d give you a few minutes to hit Denny for dropping you in the cage without prepping you on the guy’s weight. You didn’t kill him, did you?” He chuckled a little.

“No, but I’m still in the neighborhood and the day’s still young,” I said and left the building and walked over to sit on the trunk of my car while we talked.

“Well, try to stay out of jail,” he advised. “The reason I wanted to talk to you was that we’ve all watched that fight. That intensity is the exact quality we want in our fighters. I checked and you passed the drug test. That’s no surprise. You’ve passed them all since you started fighting. We’d like to offer you a chance to fight in the UFC if you’re interested.”

“Are you kidding?” I laughed. “Everyone in the sport wants to get to the UFC. It would have to depend on a few details though.”

“What are your concerns?” he asked, anticipating that I’d have some qualms.

“Well, how many fights, what time-frame and what sort of money are we talking about for starters. I do this for a hobby. I’m an architect by day. Hastings was my single biggest fight. I trained for almost three months for that.”

“I talked to Dana and after we watched that fight, we can commit to five bouts over three years,” he told me. “That’s a pretty good schedule for a serious fighter. As far as money goes, a normal entry level contract guarantees at least $6000 to $10,000 per fight. Given your professional level and the heat you’re getting from that fight on Saturday, we’re prepared to offer you more than that. You’d make $15,000 per fight just for showing up. Winners make more, but you’re familiar with that anyway. We’d offer you a hefty bonus if you agreed to make two of those bouts against guys out of your weight class. For those fights, you’d make double your standard. If you agree to that, I can promise you a signing bonus that’s more than you make at your regular job in a year.”

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