by Xavier Neal
“We should get you a punching bag,” he quickly suggests.
I cock an eyebrow.
“So you can stop swinging at my face. I mean, it’s way too pretty for you to keep trying to fuck it up.”
After swallowing the bite in my mouth, I tease, “Does it hurt?”
“What?”
“Ridin’ your own jock so hard?”
Hudson’s head falls back on a laugh and everything else ceases to exist.
Talk about an incredible fucking sound.
Eventually, he picks his piece back up, though the arrogant smile remains.
It takes me by surprise when he doesn’t continue to push or demand answers. The retreat from the subject demonstrates his ability to do more than just challenge. It showcases his willingness to submit even though it’s not his nature.
I drop the slice, wipe my hands, and reach for the opened beer in front of me. “I refuse to get an electric chair because I feel like if I do then this is permanent.”
His eyes meet mine.
“If I do…if I take that step, if I make that commitment to one, it’s like I accept this situation as something other than temporary. Which I don’t. Not now. Not ever. I don’t give a fuck what the doctor or therapist or medical journals by some assholes at an Ivy League college have to say. I know what I believe. I know without a doubt I will walk again.” Swallowing the expanding knot of sadness, I state, “I may have momentarily stopped trying, but I’ll never completely give up.”
It’s not who I am. It’s not how I was raised. And it’s why inviting Hudson into my marriage was ever a real fucking choice. The decision to take a nontraditional path seemed better than throwing in the towel. Divorcing Gwen would’ve been like getting an electric chair. Even if I couldn’t be the man she needed, I refused to accept our broken relationship as permanent. Allowing Hudson to be the salvation of our relationship wasn’t the plan, but it is appreciated. Everything going on between the three of us has managed to water those seeds of hope I had been ignoring for so long.
Suddenly, the sound of boots hitting the tile causes us to divert our attention to where Gwen is entering the area.
Hudson instantly announces, “Key works.”
The line he used on me earlier receives a sweet shake of the head from both of us.
“Thank you for the memo, Captain Fucking Obvious.” Her hand drops onto her hip and her sexy frame leans into it. “Have you been here all day?”
“Since you and I left my apartment.”
His response shifts her eyes to mine.
She was at his apartment this morning. Bitching about me. Even if it might’ve been warranted, I still hate how she runs to him for protection. What I hate even more is being the reason for it.
Gwen curtly commands, “We need to talk in private.”
“Agreed.”
“I’m not saving either of you pizza,” Hudson proclaims, grabbing another helping.
If this conversation lasts long enough for him to eat three boxes of pizza, I’ll consider it fair compensation for patiently waiting around.
Gwen spins on her white patent leather platform boots, and I follow behind. Despite all my best efforts, I let my attention deviate to the way her hips sway. The way it causes her firm ass to pop with each step. The way the sight ignites an itch in the palm of my hand to spank it.
Now is definitely not the time to be fantasizing.
As soon as we’re both in our bedroom, I question, “Why’d you go to Hudson’s this morning?”
She takes a defensive stance across from me.
“Did you go just to bitch about me?”
I expect an apologetic look to coat her expression, yet it doesn’t. “Initially yes.”
“Is that how it’s gonna be? I piss you off, you whine to him? He pisses you off, you whine to me?”
“Whine?” Her voice rises, and I regret my poor choice of words.
“I meant-”
“You wanna talk about whining?” She snaps harshly. “Every. Fucking. Time. You run into any little problem, any little setback, any little pebble on your road to rehabilitation you turn into The Incredible Asshole!”
My eyebrows and jaw plummet. “Did you just call me an asshole?”
“Yeah! And I meant it!”
The sharp tone along with the decision to stand her ground knocks me off guard.
“I am sick and tired of being your punching bag every time you have a bad moment in life, Jason.”
My mouth twitches to respond.
“It is one thing to confide in your wife when you’re going through something. To lean on her when you need the extra support. To vent when the world pisses you off, but that’s not what you’re doing. You’re taking all the shame you feel, all the irritation, all the frustration, and beating me over the head with it. You’re taking all your emotions out on me like it’s somehow my fault you’re in the chair. Like you blame me for our marriage ending up in the hell pit it was. And you know what? I’ll take half the blame for that. Because I stopped being the woman you fell in love with in this gross overcompensation attempt to be the woman I thought you needed.”
In a quieter voice than intended I confess, “I need you to be the Gwen I married. I need that woman to help me deal with…this.”
“Then you should’ve fucking spoke up a long time ago.”
Her resistance to back down from this fight enrages me as much as it excites. “I’m speaking up now.”
Gwen’s bottom lip tucks itself out of sight.
“You have a problem with me, with what happens between us, you fucking talk to me, Gwendolyn.” I watch her chest rise and fall a little faster. “You treat me like I’m your husband and not just the asshole in the wheelchair you tolerate.”
She takes a couple steps closer and leans her face down to mine. “Then you treat me like I’m your wife and not just the doormat who was doing everything she could to make all of this easier for you.”
My lips drift towards hers. “I don’t want easier, baby. I want what we had.”
Just above a whisper she proclaims, “What we had is gone. But what we’re building…” Gwen’s fingertip trails along my jaw, “will be so much better.”
A possessive growl tears through the air as I smash my mouth to hers. My fingers wrap around the nape of her neck, desperately wanting to commemorate this step in a better direction by fusing together every piece of us possible. Our tongues collide with enough momentum it causes our bodies to shake in unison. Their rolls become frantic, and my free hand guides itself to roughly grip her ass.
She gasps at the contact, “Jason….”
I groan deeply and race to consume the erotic sound.
My lips barely make it back on top of hers before Hudson’s voice invades, “Having dessert without me?”
Gwen slightly steps back revealing the beautiful image of her swollen lips.
God, I can’t wait to fucking get my mouth back on top of those.
“I see you’re kissing,” he continues, joining my side. “Does that mean now you’re ready to make up?”
“We were working on it,” Gwen sasses.
“What do you think about really working on it?”
The cryptic question causes me to lift my eyes up to him.
“Just stay with me here. You miss fucking your wife, right?”
I try not to glare. “No shit.”
He directs the next question to Gwen. “And you miss him fucking you, right?”
“Of course.”
“So what if there was a way to…I don’t know…make that happen without actually making that happen?”
Completely lost to what it is he’s trying to explain, we both stare on blankly.
“Look, before I fuck Gwen…I want you to.” The tenderness is his voice is unmistakable. He drops his stare back to mine. “I think you need to. I think if you tap that ass one more time before having to share it won’t…,” his voice pauses as if searching for the best words to follow
, “it won’t hurt as much when you finally do. And I know you’re cool with all the shit happening between me and Gwenny and you and me, but I think it’ll be easier for us to take the next step if you take it first.”
I try to smile at the genuine concern he’s displaying. “I’d kill to make love to my wife but-”
“Ah-Ah.” He holds a finger to hush me. “We can make that happen.”
“Did you lose the memo about my dick not being available to serve for duty?”
Hudson cocks a smirk. “I got you a new dick.”
“What?!” Gwen and I squawk together.
After a small chortle, he explains, “On my way over this morning, I made a pit-stop. I swung by a sex shop and got you a strap on.”
My jaw drops in disgust. “No!”
“Hear me out!”
“No!”
“But-”
“Fuck no!”
“It’s jus-”
“Jason!” Gwen stomps her foot, commanding my attention. The second she has it, she states, “Let. Him. Finish.”
Is she fucking serious? Has she lost her goddamn mind? I am not about to listen to something as fucking ridiculous as wearing a fake dick for…anyone. You wanna talk about reaching the fucking pinnacle of not feeling like a fucking man? This is it.
I start to argue again when she folds her arms across her chest and lowers her eyebrows to a scolding position.
Feeling completely outnumbered in this situation, I simply roll my eyes and look back up at Hudson.
“It’s basically just a dildo you wear. It’s got a hollowed-out area you slide your dick into and it has a string that goes right along the ass crack. That part doesn’t sound great-”
“That’s the part you think doesn’t sound great?”
“-but it’ll basically be like wearing a jock strap.”
I sneer.
“According to the clerk and the few reviews online I checked it has a natural feel, which will make it easier for Gwenny to ride.”
The last word digs at buried memories.
Hudson immediately catches on and uses it to his advantage. “Don’t you miss watching Gwenny ride your dick, Blondie? Grabbing her by the hips and pounding into that pussy?”
Hunger begins to stir in spite of all my efforts to stop it.
“The way her big ass tits would bounce in your face?”
“The way you’d pull my hair as I came?” Gwen adds with a slow lick of her lips.
A whimper idles in the back of my throat.
“You put the strap on and maybe you can’t feel the part of your dick going into her, but you can relive everything else.”
The temptation grows stronger.
Gwen seductively moves her body closer, winds both arms around my neck, and implores, “Make love to me, Jason.”
Any lingering opposition is completely demolished.
Fuck it. Gwen’s right. What we’re building will be better than whatever it was we were suffering through for the past year. Maybe that has to include wearing a fake cock. Who knows, maybe my real one will get its shit together once it grasps the concept it actually can and is being replaced, not only by Hudson but by something we used to see only in porn.
It doesn’t take long to get me into position. Hudson helps the removal of my clothes and the fastening of the toy all while Gwen does everything in her power to keep me distracted. She nibbles on my neck. Nips at my ear. Strokes my chest softly until Hudson reveals how much I like my nipples pulled. As soon as she starts tugging on them the only thing that matters is getting her on top of me so I can return the favor.
Once I’m settled on the bed, back against the headboard, I watch Hudson assist in undressing Gwen. His mouth falls to the crook of her neck for a taste, and my eyes lap up the sight.
“You know Gwenny, didn’t wear panties to work today?” he practically purrs.
My hand reaches out for the hem of her dress to pull her closer. When she’s within reach again, I glide my hand between her thighs to discover not only what Hudson announced, but the wetness that has leaked onto her thighs.
With one graze of her clit, I growl, “You’re soaking, baby.”
Gwen whimpers as she rocks into the light touch. “I am.”
“He’s gonna tear that pussy apart,” Hudson says, tugging up the end of her dress slowly.
“And then you are,” I retort.
His smile I have a love hate relationship with appears again. “Not tonight, Blondie.”
“I thought-”
“Tonight’s about the two of you having sex.” He pulls her dress off revealing a strapless black bra.
Gwen tries to speak, “But I thought-”
Hudson pushes his lips firmly against hers to silence the objection.
I smirk to myself at his solution for shutting us up.
Abruptly, he pulls back and gives her cheek a gentle stroke. “Don’t worry, Gwenny. I’m gonna claim that pussy. My name’s gonna be all over those lips just like it is these.” His thumb caresses her mouth. “It’s just that Blondie goes first.”
She turns her eager gaze to me. Shit, if my dick worked it would be dripping pre-cum profusely.
He undoes her bra at the same time she asks, “What are you gonna do tonight?”
His eyes lock onto mine. “Watch.”
The under garment falls to the ground as if unlocking the final gate standing between us.
Gwen crawls onto our king-sized bed, capturing all of my attention, and prepares to straddle herself on top of the toy. I aim it upward, and she slowly sinks herself onto the tip.
A sigh is robbed from her already trembling body, and I can’t stop myself from demanding, “Take it, baby.”
This time her shudders shoot through me. Despite the fact it’s not my actual cock connecting to her, it doesn’t prevent me from feeling how fucking turned on she is. Gwen continues to lower herself until she can’t fit any more inside. For a moment she’s frozen in what appears to be pleasure right on the cusp of pain.
“Fuck, that’s sexy,” Hudson groans from the sidelines.
I let my hands drift along her curves, admiring them in a way I haven’t in far too long. They take their time exploring the forgotten softness while I soak in every little lecherous moan that leaves her lips.
Eventually, Gwen lets her fingertips intertwine at the nape on my neck and begins to move. She keeps her actions slow yet steady. Her body takes its time in discovering the perfect rhythm though when it successfully does, she tenderly cries out her acceptance. I crush our mouths together and cage her firmly against my chest. The pressure from her full tits pressed against me has me groaning even louder. Our tongues fall in sync to the way she’s rocking her pussy. Her previous shaking returns while her mouth tries to pry itself from mine to release moans I wanna swallow. Gwen’s palms gently push at my chest in protest, but it only spurs my tongue to increase in celerity.
When I finally allow for a moment of reprieve, she erupts, and the power of her orgasm sways my entire body.
“Fuck,” Hudson groans again. “Did she just come?”
Unable to do more than nod, I watch as she rides the wave of her first climax.
Because it is her first. Not only from this toy, but with the new man I feel myself reluctantly becoming. That man wants her coming all the goddamn time. On his fake cock. On his fingers. On his face.
Who the hell knew I would enjoy the people I love coming on my face this much?
Wait.
Not love.
I don’t love Hudson….I mean…at least not yet.
But I think someday I can.
Someday I will.
“You’re gonna come again,” I proclaim and drop my mouth to her nipple.
She objects on a choked breath. “I can’t….It’s…too much.”
After switching sides and sucking on the other one, I argue, “It’s not.”
Gwen grunts her annoyance until her nipple is trapped between my teeth. Her head lulls back o
n another moan except this time she adds, “Jason….”
“Sexy sound,” Hudson practically pants.
My mouth frees itself from her body, and I twist my face to take him in.
