When I was 20, I worked as a manager at a national gym franchise. About a week in, this fine, petite, light-skinned Latina is newly hired as our receptionist. Her name was Jen. I was, and am, terrible at talking to chicks. I freeze up and come off as a dick, and not in the "asshole" way a lot of girls gravitate towards. I took Jen under my wing and taught her the job, but shit, was I nervous. She had such a pretty dimpled smile, and she always wore it. Jen was also a fluent Spanish speaker, which already does it for me, but she looked white, and it was just too damn sexy. Lo and behold, like all youth cluster fuck jobs, we developed feelings for each other. We became boyfriend and girlfriend shortly after that.
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Jen and I moved into a cheap one-bedroom apartment about four months later. We moved fast, definitely too fast for how young we were, but it was a damn fun time learning to adult with her. We would get stoned and laugh at the same four bootleg DVDs we had. We would cook in our underwear. We would have late-night conversations that led to late-night sexy time. Things could have been better, but they were memorable.
Jen still worked at the gym, but I had accepted an offer at a higher-paying, more time-consuming cubicle city hell. It sucked, but it afforded us our freedom and independence.
I kissed Jen every morning as she slept before leaving for work. My schedule was a rat race from 8 to 5. Jen's shift started three hours after mine, and as a night owl, she slept every extra morning minute. Little did I know, Jen had been texting with her ex-boyfriend Tony for the last few weeks. Tony was Jen's childhood boyfriend. Jen was with him throughout high school, homecoming, prom, virginity, and all those coming-of-age milestones. On this particular day, Jen and Tony coincidentally called out sick.
I am probably just pulling up to work with my sad bologna sandwich lunch bag, making small talk with people I don't care about when my girlfriend lets Tony into my apartment. They had concocted this arrangement the night prior while I was sleeping.
Tony wasted no time, pulling Jen's face into his while taking her top off. Jen kissed back with nostalgic passion until Tony reached to her hips, slid his thumbs into her waistband, and pulled down Jen's sweatpants. Jen was swooning, standing there in her panties, admiring Tony's familiar tall and lean body. They kissed and touched, grabbed until Jen sat Tony on our couch. Tony's long arms reached around, and his fingers slid up and down Jen's pussy. She was wet since I had left for work because she knew this was happening. Jen raised her hips, her nipple pressed into the side of his face. She grabbed his dick and pushed it into her. Jen slowly sat down until she felt his balls pressed firmly into her under-cheeks. Tony grabbed a handful as Jen began grinding into Tony faster and faster. She was fucking him. Jen rode and kissed and fucked until Tony swirled her around, pulling out his cock and nutting everywhere under her belly button.
Jen has missed Tony's stamina; she missed cumming. I was still mastering every Jedi mind trick so as not to bust in under thirty seconds. Jen was in a haze.
Two hours after Tony left, I arrived at the apartment. I was none the fucking wiser, an oblivious youth in love with a cheater. It would be a short time later that my self-accepting epiphany would reveal that I love – this – shit. However, it is unlikely Jen would have confessed otherwise. It's a cuckold paradox if you will. Jen and I watched our favorite bootleg comedy, cooked dinner, and went to bed like any other night.
With serendipitous timing, me and Jen had sex that night. It had been about a week, and having early twenties testosterone, I was beyond ready to go. What is mind-blowing as I reflect, Jen was horny too. Even more bizarre, it was not routine for me to go down on her. Yet, I bent her over our bed, pulled her thong off, and started eating her pussy like that. Jen had an unsuspecting bubble butt, and I loved putting my face in it.
When I looked at her blue thong on the ground, I remembered the fabric that covered her pussy was already soaked through, but I figured she was as pent up as I was. In reality, Jen put the same undies on after she fucked Tony down the hall a few hours earlier. Jen's pussy looked, smelled, and tasted different too. It's a core memory where I specifically recall pausing blank-faced, Jen's reddened pussy inches from my face, sulking in a strange feeling. I pushed my nose back in, we fucked like bunnies, and we both went to sleep.