Robert Kyle - Swapped wife

Brad Tomlin gazed at the martini on the rocks through murky eyes. It was his third. Or was it his fourth? He wasn't sure, and what's more, he didn't give a good fuck.

His gaze drifted up over the top of the glass to the blonde across the small table from him. Her large, full tits bulged underneath her tight blue sweater. His eyes wandered upward to the soft white skin of her slim neck, to her sensuous red lips and then to her soft blue eyes.

They stared silently at each other for a moment as Brad swirled the ice and the lone olive around in the bottom of his glass. She had been chattering on about something or other just a moment ago, but when she realized that Brad wasn't listening to a word she said, she stopped abruptly in mid-sentence.

"I'm sorry, Angie," Brad apologized. "What were you saying?"

"It doesn't matter. I was just making conversation. What's the matter, Brad, you look like you're ready to have them stop the world so you can get off."

He didn't answer right away. His mind ran over the coincidental string of events that had brought them together in the dim, cozy little bar in the heart of Chicago's banking district. Angie had been one of the things that Brad had noticed first when he had been assigned to supervise the tellers in the gleaming new First Union Bank building.

There were a lot of sexy broads working in the banks and brokerage houses in the bustling financial district, and while Brad wouldn't have minded fucking them all, there was something special about Angie. He hadn't been able to put his finger on it until just now, but suddenly he realized what it was.

As he looked at Angie's blonde curls that bounced against her shoulders and her cute, round face, he knew what it was about her that attracted him and what she symbolized. Her petite, yet curvy body and everything about her was the exact opposite of his young wife, Sheila.

An image of Sheila with her long, black hair and her dark skin flashed across his mind. He saw her as she paraded across his consciousness clad only in a pair of brief bikini panties. He recalled her long, slim legs, her firm asscheeks, her slender waist and her perfectly shaped tits.

It was funny, he thought to himself. Sheila, his own wife, was actually more beautiful and sexier than the small-town, cheerleader type that was sitting across from him. She probably couldn't fuck as good as Sheila, either, he mused.

Yet he was determined to get into the sack with Angie. If only for the novelty of it. Yes, Goddamn it, that was it, just for the pure novelty of it.

"Why would I want to get off at a time like this?" Brad heard himself saying. He felt he had to say something to boost her ego and to make her feel that she wasn't boring him. "This is the night of our great escape, remember?"

She flashed her blue eyes at him and giggled. She was on her fourth Scotch and soda, and she was beginning to get a little drunk. She giggled some more when Brad reached under the tiny table and ran his hand over her thigh.

"Well, at last," she cooed. "I was beginning to think that all you stuffy old bankers ever thought about was money."

"Number one, I'm not old. Unless you call twenty-seven old," Brad retorted. "Number two, I'm not really sure I'm a banker, and number three, I'll prove to you pretty damn quick that I'm not stuffy."

"That's what I was hoping you would say, Brad. I thought you were never going to ask me to have a drink with you. I thought I was destined to always be the girl that you told about your frustrated ambitions over a cup of coffee in the cafeteria."

Brad wondered whether he had made a mistake in telling Angie about how he felt about his career at the bank. Brad Tomlin hadn't had things easy.

He came from a working-class family on the wrong side of Chicago's tracks. He'd fought for survival as a kid and taken his share of punishment in gang fights. But Brad was more than a fighter. He had brains.

He was smart enough to realize that a knife and a three-foot length of chain couldn't get him everything he wanted in the world. So when he was eighteen, he split from his gang buddies and got a job. It didn't pay much but he was able to get enough for his first semester's tuition at the University of Illinois Chicago campus. After four years of hard work and study, he emerged with a degree in finance and top honors.

Looking back on it, Brad realized that really it had been easy. It didn't seem easy at the time, but it was simpler to accomplish than what he was up against now. Then, he had simply known what he wanted and had busted his balls to get it. What he was up against now was different. He was up against a system where hard work and guts didn't count for much. It was who you were and who you knew that counted.

He saw young men with half the ability and intelligence he had get promoted past him because of their family background and social position. There had to be a way to combat this, too, but he hadn't found it yet. Meanwhile, he consoled himself with a martini and the sexy-looking piece of ass in front of him.

Angie understood Brad's plight and wished she could help him. She had grown up in a small town in northern Minnesota and had come to Chicago to find her place in the world. She had to do her thing, but like Brad, she was finding that it was easier said than done.

They finished their drinks and moments later were speeding along the freeway in Brad's convertible. The cool summer breeze off Lake Michigan fluttered through Angie's soft curls as she rested her head on Brad's shoulder and pressed her nearly naked thigh against his leg. She had let her brief skirt creep up nearly to her cunt, revealing her luscious thighs. The tip of her left tit was pressed into Brad's muscular arm as he drove.

The sun had descended behind the Chicago skyline to the west, turning the waters of Lake Michigan to a dark purple as the evening began to float in over the city. Angie was kissing Brad on the neck by the time they pulled up in front of her apartment building. She was so horny that Brad thought she might want to fuck right there in the car, so he hurried her out of the convertible and into the elevator.

Once inside her apartment, they fell into each other's arms and felt their lips crush together for the first time. They had been building up to this for a long time, and now there wasn't any need for playing games. They both knew what they wanted. Brad ran his hands over her back and pulled her close to him as she ground her cunt against his bulging cock.

Their lips parted and their hot tongues swam together, feeling the electric sensuousness of each other's flesh. Brad felt his cock, get harder and harder as Angie's boobs crushed against his chest. He eased her away from him and slowly moved his hand over one of her giant tits. Even through the protective covering of her sweater and sheer bra, her shimmering flesh felt hot and exciting.

Then Brad undid the buttons on the front of her sweater and slipped the garment off her shoulders. Her dark-red nipples poked against the flimsy material of her bra and cried out to be touched and kissed. Angie reached behind her back and unsnapped her bra, letting it fall to the floor to reveal the beautiful nakedness of her lovely tits. Brad gazed at her for a moment and then as they stood in the middle of her living room, he began kissing her neck, planting soft wet kisses on her tender skin.

Angie was moaning breathlessly by the time Brad's lips reached the sensitive circle of dark flesh that surrounded her erect nipple. She ran her fingers through his dark curly hair and pulled his head closer to her eager tit as he sucked her nipple into his mouth. He played with the spongy piece of flesh with his tongue, and then he began sucking her tit into his mouth until he had no room for more.