Adultery Cheating and Rivals by xleglover-COMPLETED

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Jen had to admit Jasmine looked beautiful. Part of her was glad Mike wasn't there. In fact, honestly, she'd been relieved when Mike said he wouldn't be able to go to the party.

Jen tried to be as diplomatic and non-confrontational as possible. "You're trying too hard," she said gently.

"What?" Jasmine said frowning at Jen.

"You're pressing too hard," Jen whispered. "I can see it. People aren't listening."

"I'm being myself. I'm talking about issues I care about," Jasmine said exasperated. She'd swallowed her pride and followed Jen's advice. Now the flat chested bitch was giving her shit about it?

"Yeah but, maybe ease into it," Jen said, thinking fast. She looked at the TVs playing the women's World Cup soccer match. "Do you know anyone on the US team?"

"I did a story on Alex Morgan and Abby Wambach," Jasmine said.

"Talk about that," Jen suggested. She'd vaguely heard of the players, especially Wambach.

"I'm trying to distance myself from ESPN," Jasmine said frustrated and impatient.

"Jasmine, ESPN is part of you, everyone knows you worked there," Jen said. "This is a sports party, it's appropriate. Talk about the players, what they're like, tell funny stories. Give people a reason to listen to you. Then ease into your positions."

Jen sighed as Jasmine glared at her. She could feel Jasmine casting daggers into her back as she walked away. Whatever, she did her best.

Jen looked over to Frank. He was still holding court, the crowd even larger now. She'd hoped to talk to him. Maybe flirt a little. She enjoyed his company, and liked when he looked at her.

Frank Tower surreptitiously watched Jen as she mingled and moved through the crowd. Every male head turned as she passed. He wasn't surprised. Jenny Johnson was exceptionally beautiful. She looked striking in the slim, simple sundress, a stunning contrast among the sea of expensive (and many gaudy) cocktail dresses.

Frank compared Jen to Jasmine Kelly. Both blondes were beautiful (although he preferred brunettes over blondes). Jen more leggy, Jasmine more busty. But their tits weren't the only difference.

Jasmine was ambitious, pushy, hard-driving. People skills weren't her strength (although she could be charming when she tried). When Jas was focus on something - a story, an election - she was relentless, it was like she had blinders on.

In contrast, Jenny Johnson was adorably charming, always smiling and laughing, so engaging and captivating. She'd been that way as a girl, the most popular girl in high school. She was still like that, although now she was more mature and sophisticated. Combined with her physical beauty, Jenny Johnson was delightful and practically irresistible. (He knew she was Jen Andrews now, but he still thought of her as Jenny Johnson.)

A little while later, Jen turned and found herself looking at the face of Frank Tower. "Frank," she said surprised.

Frank smiled at her. "Like the view?" he asked waving at the large window. His apartment was on the 80th floor and had a stunning view of Central Park.

"It's awesome," Jen said amazed at the incredible view.

"Leo has us going to Chicago for a fund raiser," Frank said.

"I know, he told me," Jen said with a quizzical look. "Why would people in Chicago donate to Jasmine?"

"This is Hillary's former seat," Frank reminded her. "Democrats all over the country want to see a Democrat win. Do you have a moment? I want to show you something."

"Sure," Jen said.

Frank led her down a hallway. Jen noticed as people looked their way. She felt flattered that Frank was paying her so much attention.

Frank led her to an elevator. "This goes to my office," he said as they stepped in. Jen watched as the floor indicator went from 80 to 5. They stepped out into a huge office. The office was just as luxurious and richly decorated as Frank's apartment.

"This is your office?" Jen asked in wonder.

"I work here when I'm in the City," Frank said.

Jen assumed Frank wanted to show her something involving Jasmine's campaign and their upcoming fund raiser. But instead Frank led her to a balcony. "I wanted to show you the view of the Park from this floor," he said motioning at Central Park. "The high view is impressive, but it's like a painting. I prefer this lower view, it's more real."

"Yeah," Jen said seeing what he was talking about. "It's like you're in the middle of Central Park."

"Exactly," Frank said smiling at her. "So how do you like the crowd?" he asked motioning up to his 80th floor apartment.

"Kind of intimidating," Jen said with a laugh.

"Not exactly one of our neighborhood parties in Belmont," Frank said with a grin. Belmont was where they lived, a small town outside Cambridge, MA.

"No," Jen agreed with another laugh. "Do you still have those parties?"

"No, not since Sally died," he said, sadness coming over his face. He forced a smile. "I should though. You'll come right?"

Jen noticed his mood change. His wife had died over 2 years ago yet he still wasn't over her. Hoping to cheer him up, she gave him a big smile and said enthusiastically, "I'll definitely be there."

There was an awkward silence. Jen glanced to the right and saw a reflection of herself in the glass door. Wanting to change the subject, she bemoaned, "God, I can't believe how under-dressed I am."

"You look wonderful," Frank said giving her an up and down look. "Gorgeous as always."

Jen was used to compliments over her looks, but coming from Frank she couldn't help blushing. She rubbed her arms. It was chilly outside.

"You're cold?" Frank asked. He was looking at her chest, not her face. Jen knew what he was looking at. Like her breasts, her nipples were small. But when they got hard, they got really hard. The chill in the air was making her nipples hard, and she knew they were denting her dress even through her bra. That's what Frank was looking at. "Perhaps we should go back inside," he said, his eyes lingering on her chest.

"Alright," Jen said, pretending not to notice his stares. They walked back in. "You have a lot of art," she said looking at the walls of his office.

"One of my indulgences," he said with a chuckle. "I collect Impressionist art. Let me show you." Frank walked Jen through his gallery, explaining the history of his favorite pieces. As an art fan, Jen was stunned by his collection. Renoir, Pissarro, Monet, Matisse, Cezanne, van Gogh. She felt like she was back in her college art history class. She knew Frank was rich, but she never realized he was this rich.

As they toured his collection, Frank walked just behind Jen. Jen's sundress was partially backless, from just below her bra strap to a few inches above her ass. Walking behind her, Frank had a great view of her toned back. The sundress hugged her curves, so his view also included Jen's incredible ass. He found himself getting hard.

As they moved from a Renoir to a Matisse, Frank put his hand on Jen's bare back like he was guiding her. Jen felt his hand on her back of course. She didn't encourage him. She didn't okay his touching with a smile, or lean back into his hand. But she didn't pull away from his hand either.

Frank stood close behind Jen as they looked at the Matisse. Despite his wealth, his hand felt rough and calloused. Jen liked that. For a moment, she imagined those rough hands on her breasts, on her ass, rubbing her clit. The thoughts made her pussy tingle.

Frank stood so close behind Jen she could feel his breath on the back of her neck as he described the Matisse. There was electricity between them. Jen found herself breathing harder. Did Frank feel it too? The sexual tension?

Jen knew if she took a half step back she would rub up against him. She didn't, but was tempted. She wanted to know if he was hard. She wanted to know if he was big.

Then as he pointed out a detail in the painting, Frank leaned closer. He momentarily pressed his crotch against the back of her thigh. Was it intentional? It didn't matter. Jen knew now. Frank was hard and felt big.

Jen was so horny. Her nympho switch was back on, and that thing with Jim - while a disaster - had also been a tease. She needed fucked.

Jen imagined Frank pushing her against the wall right next to the Matisse. She imagined him pulling up her skirt and ripping off her panties. She imagined him taking out his cock and ramming it into her. She knew he would fuck her hard. Frank was that kind of man.

Jen felt flushed with these thoughts. Would she let him fuck her if he tried? She had a thing for older men, and Frank was handsome, powerful, charismatic. The wicked naughtiness of fucking her friend Sophie's father turned her on even more. Frank was unattached so she wouldn't have to deal with the moral issues of bedding a married man. On top of all that, she had Mike's permission to do what she wanted.

At that moment Jen's iPhone rang. She looked at the screen. It was Mike.

"Hi baby," Jen said into the phone. She looked at Frank and mouthed "my husband." She stepped a few feet away. "How'd your meeting go?" she asked.

"Pretty exhausting, I'm wiped," Mike said. "I'm going to bed. I just wanted to let you know I'm okay." Jen had worried about Mike returning to the place they held him prisoner. Mike had been anxious about that too but hadn't told her that. "Are you at the party?" he asked.

"Yeah, you won't believe all the famous people here, I saw Beyonce," Jen gushed. She decided not to mention to Mike that she was with Frank at that very moment. She knew Mike would ask a lot of questions, and that would be uncomfortable with Frank standing just a few feet away.

After hanging up with Mike, Jen said "I guess we should go back up."

"Oh alright, if that's what you want," Frank said looking disappointed.

Jen saw his disappointment. She suspected he was hoping for more than just a tour of his art collection. Jen was definitely tempted to get intimate with Frank, and she knew Mike would be all for it. But ironically, talking to Mike had broken the moment. After hearing her husband's voice, she felt uneasy about doing anything with Frank. She wasn't sure why since Mike was encouraging her to sleep with Frank.