Jet Fuel

By KT Morrison

Tommy Travis has it all. A booming career, a big house with a swimming pool, a brand-new Corvette, a smoking hot wife, two macho little boys who are chips off the old block.

Tommy loves his little Sukie, the dutiful mother of his two boys and capable president of the Travis household. She’s a sexy little something, that’s for sure.

He met Sukie when he was at university and she was at community college getting her massage therapist’s ticket. Now that the boys are out of the house and going to school, Sukie set up a private practice out of the cabana by the pool. She’s got a good thing going.

But when Sukie takes on a new client, Tommy’s palms begin to sweat. Dio Megalos. His boss. A rich, fit, and handsome guy ten years younger than him. The kind of guy that all hot-blooded girls dream about and he knows his wife’s got eyes in her head. Two times a week she’s going to be putting her oily hands all over his boss’s bare and muscular body?

Not on Tommy’s watch. No way. Except he trusts her, doesn’t he? Who’s better for Sukie than her big Tommy? And there’s a little tickle deep down that kinda likes it. Thinking of Sukie with another man brings out old Tommy, and old Tommy was aggressive, competitive. Old Tommy was a laser-focused shark that built himself up from nothing...

What’s the harm in a little fantasy?

• Language: English
• Publisher: KT Morrison
• Release date: Mar 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463495827

KT Morrison

KT Morrison writes stories about women who fall in love with sexy men who aren't their husband, and loving relationships that go too far—couples who open a mysterious door, then struggle to get it closed as trouble pushes through the threshold.

Book preview

1

Hooters

Wednesday, August 16

Gudmund and Kal, the Norwegian mining execs, had spent a full week in The South, starting in Atlanta, then up to Greenville for a few days, and over to Alabama for a few more before coming back to fly out of Hartsfield. Tommy brought Dio with him to a morning meeting with Kal before him and Gudmund flew to Kabul. Simple palm-pressing, but he seemed to be building a good relationship with Kal despite the language barrier. They didn’t even talk about mining.

It was 1 P.M. when they were coming back through Atlanta, cutting along downtown on Peachtree in his company Mercedes. They parked at The Westin and when they went to the Hard Rock it had a line so they crossed the street and went to the Hooters.

Dio checked his Rolex while they waited for the hostess. You wanna knock off? Hit the links?

Nice day, Tommy agreed, but he had a shit-ton to do. Next week. I got follow-ups today.

You sure? We can play nine.

Nine … he hemmed like he was contemplating, though he knew he wouldn’t. Nine holes and then what, Dio? Nine holes with your wicked over-swing so you can tweak your shoulder and come back to the house, have me sit there and watch my wife put her hands all over you? Then when you’re done, maybe you can stand up and jerk your freak cock for us.

Hey, or next week, Tommy boy … look at me trying to get my star salesman to work less.

Somebody’s gotta make the money, he said and gave a friendly wink. Dio laughed but then the hostess was there, coming from the side in a hurry cause the place was packed, then stopping short seeing handsome Dio. Cool, honey. She recovered quick, giving off the charm, batting her eyes then leading them with a sexy sashay in her black shorts down the aisle with two menus clutched to her chest.

They had a table near the back against the wall under a big screen; tall glossy pine with two stools. The hostess had her arm around the back of Dio’s stool asking if they wanted beers and they told her they did. She told them the specials, lingering and making eye contact with Dio then saying their server would be Sam and she’d be right over.

As they looked over their menus Tommy watched Dio. This guy was his boss. Well, technically—he kept some of the sales guys like Tommy as independent contractors, but Tommy was exclusive to Dio and it meant the same fucking thing as being his employee. The two of them got along. Got along real well, two driven dudes who liked money. Dio was born into it, liked it cause he liked to spend it, but Tommy liked to make it. He really liked Dio. Up till last night he thought he was a pretty stand-up guy. Then the video.

Just yesterday, this guy let Tommy’s own wife stroke her hands all over his body, lay there on his back totally naked with his horse dong showing. Sook put her hands on it, just to move it—but how the fuck would Dio not know that was wrong. Sook was complicit, but Jesus, that was her job to do shit like that, rub people. She was just doing what she was supposed to. Sure, she held Dio’s penis, but just to get it out of the way. What the fuck was Dio thinking? This is your buddy’s wife, and you lay there naked with your eyes closed? This man sitting across from him one-hundred percent wanted something to happen between him and Sook. That’s what he was up to.

Most troublesome was the incident that occurred thereafter. Where this man sitting right here making chit-chat and inviting him to golf, fucking masturbated on Tommy’s pool deck. Jerked off the erection his wife’s massage had prompted and emptied his gonads near where Tommy and his family ate a lot of their dinners. Why would he do that? What if Sook came out and caught him? It was insane. Worse was the idea that he couldn’t prove she hadn’t seen. Sukie may have watched him do that. It was a little hard to believe though. Not like Sook, but maybe it turned her on.

That thought made him shift uncomfortably in the seat and loosen his collar, tug his tie down a little. That turned him on.

Sam came to the table and Tommy could tell she’d been warned by the hostess about the stunner in the expensive suit. She was calm and collected, prepared, bringing them their pitcher of beer and a couple mugs, eyes darting over to Dio, her glossy brown hair with the pink and blond ombrè coming down to hide one side of her pretty face. Girl looked like a teen with one of those fresh and wholesome young faces with a bit of softness. Body of a woman though, showing off in her white tank cut-off to show her taut tum. She was bouncy and flirty and Tommy caught her checking out their hands for wedding rings and took it as a compliment. He was no Dio, but he did all right.

They told her they needed another minute, and she did this girlish bounce on her toes and swished off. Dio’s gaze followed her and so did Tommy’s. They watched her pert behind in her orange short-shorts, watched the silvery stockings’ glimmer on her shapely legs.

When Dio turned back, Tommy had his eyes down on the menu again. Dio said, The rack on her, huh?

I didn’t notice.

Tommy’s a good boy.

Is he? he said, forcing a lighthearted chuckle.

Dio laughed. Guess you got it all at home. Now his eyes roamed again, peering off to the side, pinging the flirty young waitress as she crossed around behind the barrier by the food bar. She knew she was being watched, and she was all glossy lipstick smiles and running her hand through her hair, giving the handsome guy at Table 12 a side shot of her big bosom. Wonder what she looks like on her back, Dio said to Tommy, eyes still on the girl.

Get her number.

You see me with a Hooters waitress?

Not good enough for you? Maybe she’s at college, gonna be a doctor.

I can turn my head and cough for her in five years then. She’s probably not in school, not with that ombrè.

You don’t think she’s in med school cause she has an ombrè?

Don’t think she’s in college because of that ombrè.

Plenty of college girls have em.

That’s a good one. Not cheap. Brown to blonde to pink. If you work at Hooters to make your way through college—

Tommy finished, You don’t blow your earnings on expensive hairdos. And if you got rich parents to pay for college, you don’t work at Hooters.

Beautiful face though, huh?

Tommy looked up again, saw her now talking to two other girls at the bar, all three of them aware that Dio had his eyes over there. Didn’t know you had such high education standards for dating.

I do. For dating, not fucking. And don’t worry, they’re not that high.

So you’d fuck her?

Dio laughed enough his shoulders shook, and he turned back to the table, brought his attention to Tommy again. Yeah, blow job in the alley, or I tell you what, get my dick between those jugs.

Jesus, Dio, look at you, horny in the middle of the day.

"I’m twenty-six. I’m horny all day."

Not to be bested, Tommy clarified: I’m thirty-seven, I’m horny all day.

You must have been a dude back in the day, huh, Tommy? Wish we coulda hung out.

I met Sook when I was your age.

Mm, Dio grunted appreciatively, looked back at the waitress, "maybe she’s my Sukie, right? Shit, or you mean you want a shot at her? Maybe get your dick between those titties. You know all about that, Tommy. You gotta be a breast man."

"Why do I gotta be a breast man?" Tommy said, looking over the top of the menu, waiting to see how Dio would offer that Sukie had a nice set on her.

Dio gave him a smirking You kidding me? face, presented his palms and waited for Tommy to admit it.

Tommy held his stare for a moment, said, What man isn’t into breasts?

Good point, chief, Dio shrugged and opened the menu. You know you’re a lucky cat is all.

It made him grimace. The highly sexualized talk, the video he watched last night, this horny young man’s bi-weekly visits to his wife, all ganging up to grind Tommy’s crank. Now Dio was outright saying he thought Sook was hot. Wasn’t luck, he said into the menu.

My man, Dio agreed. "Some women need men that fucking earn them."

She made me work.

Oh yeah? She go with a lot of dudes back then?

Jesus, Dio just pressing all of Tommy’s buttons today. She picked the best one.

Top dog, Dio agreed. She deserves the top dog.

You guys decide yet? Sam was there, bouncing on her bright white sneakers and bubbling over with a gleaming smile.

Tommy’s nose buried in the menu the whole time and he hadn’t registered a thing. He read the first thing he saw: Uh, Big Hootie, fries.

And how bout you? she said now, leaning closer to Dio like they knew each other.

Waiting a moment so he had both their attention, he said to her, How’s the fish taco?

Sam held her expression poised, stuck by indecision over whether this guy was fucking with her or really ordering the fish taco. Dio gave her a serious face, handsome brows curled up confidently, studying her. She almost wilted for a moment, regained some sass, said, Served warm.

Who wants it cold?

No one, she agreed, raising her chin and narrowing her eyes, a hesitant smirk on those pretty lips. When Dio said nothing more, she said, I can’t tell if you’re being bad or not.

You’ll know when I’m being bad, he said. Menacing words, but he tempered them with an innocent and endearing smile that sunk his dimples in his tanned cheeks. Upgrade mine to the mahi mahi. He handed her his menu.

She took it, collected Tommy’s, too, gave him a Can you believe your friend? kind of eyebrow raise. They watched her walk away again, bright orange bottom dancing left and right, smiling over her shoulder and giving Dio a pretend scolding side-eye.

And Sook’s worried you won’t find a girl, Tommy said.

I find plenty of girls. I’m looking for one that’s special.

Just turning over all the rocks, huh?

Don’t find if you don’t look.

What makes a girl special?

Good question, Tommy. He thought a minute, eyes turned up to the multiple big screen TVs mounted behind Tommy. Value. She’s gotta have value. It was a wistful, imprecise description of whatever went on under that gleaming and combed back head of lustrous black hair. Then, keeping it real, he added, And be hot as fuck.

Well, my Sook’s got value. To me.

Hey, here here, Dio said, tipping his beer mug. To any man.

Maybe he’d been baited, but Tommy couldn’t help it: Any man? The idea that this young playboy was into his wife should make him mad, and it did, but it had this brightly colored candy coating that fucking dazzled him.

Dio laughed, imbibed, set his beer down. Now he said, Just the top dog, right, Tommy?

You got it, Tommy said, wanting to narrow his eyes and lock on Dio but somehow not ready for that. To do that would acknowledge that something was implied here. It would acknowledge that Dio might challenge him for possession of his wife, and Tommy was warding him off. A crazy fucking thought. Impossible. Instead he looked away, not at the waitress but out the front of the restaurant, beyond where it was dim, and he could see the bustle of traffic and cars out on Andrew Young.

Dio said, Hey, you think your Sook talks like we do with her friends?

He turned back, said, I better not catch her.

She better not catch you either, huh?

You’re the one on fire today. I didn’t say a thing about our polite young server. I’m playing along cause you’re my boss.

Speaking of which, you set for Africa?

You think I might not be? Tommy knocked back half his beer.

"Yeah, no, I know. It’s big, Tommy. You know, but you don’t know … He shook his head, winced. You’re my man. We close with these guys, the Chinese, the Dutch, shit, Gudmund and his Norwegians …?"

It’s as good as done, Dio.

I love your fuckin’ confidence, Tommy.

Look, I don’t know what’s gonna happen. I know our bottom line, I know our logistics and what we can offer. These guys keep their cards close but I can guess what they’re holding, and when I can, I try and take a peek. Nothing’s a sure thing, but no one can touch us, touch Megalos. But you never know what the Chinese will do.

They all like you, Tommy. And they trust you.

I’m a high paid Hooters waitress. I got my smile, my ombré, my tight T showing off my titties. Sam and I are no different. We’re what the other guy wants to see, we’re the illusion, the dream come true. I tell you what though, I sell the fuck out of fish tacos.

Dio smiled, eyes admiring Tommy and Tommy liked to see that look on him. He said, Shit, don’t remind me.

What—that now you gotta eat that fish taco?

I don’t even want it. The shit I do for pussy. Switch with me, Tommy. Give me your Hootie.

2

Commando

Thursday, August 17

On the next day’s massage appointment with his boss, Tommy conspired to hide in the house and watch Sukie and Dio together, live and in person. It wasn’t that difficult—the hardest part was the moral dilemma. The implication of the doing. He would be spying on his wife. He would be spying on his boss. Neither of them would be happy about that.

If nothing was happening between them, and it didn’t appear that it was, then Dio might be mad that Tommy thought he would try to sleep with Tommy’s wife. Of course, Tommy would counter, No, you don’t want to sleep with her, just jerk off to her, spew your semen all over the pool deck where my family plays.

The more hurtful action would be spying on his wife. She would be upset that he thought she would cheat on him. He didn’t think she would, and the video had proven that even presented with the opportunity (the gift!) she had been his faithful, professional, Sukie.

Then, underneath that, was the thought that Well, hey, she was faithful that time, but Dio was seeing her twice a week, likely in perpetuity—one day she would break down. One day she might have