by Ben Boswell
“So did anything interesting happen today?” I asked pointedly.
She batted her eyelashes at me. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Did you, um, happen to see Brian today?”
“You know I did.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I challenged.
“Why didn’t you? she replied.
“What?”
“You were there,” she said accusingly.
“You… saw me?”
“Behind the curtain, right?” she asked. “Actually, no, it was pretty dark in there and you were quiet.”
“So…?”
She laughed. “He texted me when you walked in. Said you were trying to pull a Clark Kent, but that he recognized you right away.”
My stomach sank. I felt sick… and humiliated. I had just confirmed for Brian that I was this… pathetic… cuckold… who liked to watch my wife fuck other men. It was mortifying, especially since it was sort of true.
“What did you…?” I trailed off.
She shrugged. “I figured you wanted a show but were too embarrassed to ask. Next time, let me know and I can plan something special. As it was, I just had time to pull off my underwear and Uber over.”
I shook my head, incredulous. “So it was just a performance?”
She sighed. “No. You always want to make it black or white. My desires or yours. As if there were no overlap. I wasn’t actually planning on visiting Brian today, but once I heard you were there….”
“I was just there to talk to him.”
She snorted. “About what?”
“About what makes you tick.”
“Because he knows me better than you do?”
“Maybe, in some ways,” I noted.
“What makes you think that?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Because he makes me come?” she asked.
I felt my cock twitch despite myself.
“More than I do,” I noted
She didn’t deny it. “Knowing I was putting on a show for you helped, but yeah he has an amazing body. A really big prick. And he’s pretty fearless about getting what he wants.”
“Maybe you should see him more often,” I snarked.
She shook her head. “Funny how you bury your true desires beneath a hostile tone.”
“What are you saying?”
She shrugged. You know what I am saying.
Her eyes locked on mine, challenging. A stare down with my wife. I looked away.
“Do you want me to stop?” she asked.
“No. Do whatever you want,” I snapped.
She paused and then nodded. “Okay, well, good then. Because I have a date with Mike Friday. He wants me to spend the night.”
I was taken aback. How much more clear could I be that I didn’t like this? That I didn’t want it to go on? Did she expect me to beg her not to fuck other men?
“What about the kids?” I blurted out finally.
“I’ll go after they’re down. This isn’t a dinner-and-a-movie kind of date.”
“No. Just go over to his place and fuck. That’s more your speed,” I spat venomously.
“Exactly,” she replied, her voice icy, yet seductive. “Because I am a cheap slut. Poor you, Bill. You married a whore.”
Before I could respond, she lunged at me and straddled my waist. I shielded my face, only to feel her yanking down my PJs instead.
“No, Terri, get off me,” I hissed.
I flailed at her. She grabbed my arms and shoved them over my head. She grabbed my already hard cock and stroked it roughly, almost as if she wanted to tear it off. It hurt, but her urgency was exciting. She adjusted her position and impaled herself on me. She leaned forward and kissed me hard, almost painfully.
“That’s it, Bill, fuck my cheating cunt.”
“No, Terri, not like this.”
“What’s the matter, Bill,” she asked as she ground against me. “Didn’t I put on a good enough show? What should I have done differently? Did you want me to take it in the ass?”
I remembered him pulling her anus apart with his thumbs. Pictured him pressing that fat tool in her tight butthole. Imagine her squealing in pain… excitement… lust.
“Oh God, Terri,” I groaned as I came inside her.
She laughed softly.
“This isn’t a game,” I grumbled, although I couldn’t help continuing to pump inside her once-again-tight pussy.
“You could have fooled me,” she replied.
“Terri….”
She leaned in and buried her face in my neck.
“So, what do you think Bill? I know I need to be a little rested for Mike. God only knows what he’s going to do to me…”
My cock had been threatening to slid out of her gooey twat but now it stiffened back up.
“…but it is only Tuesday, so I do have a little time. Think I should go visit Brian again tomorrow?”
I groaned, but my prick was now hard enough that Terri was able to roll her hips, moving me in and out of her.
“I’m pretty sure he’d like to see me every day. May I should just cancel my gym membership. An hour a day with Brian definitely counts as a workout. Or maybe not,” she added thoughtfully. She rose up and peeled off her shirt. Then she continued grinding into me. “Truth is, he just pummels me so hard that all I can really do is take it.”
She was putty in his hands. He bent her and molded her to his desires. And she submitted to it completely, without hesitation.
“So what was your favorite part?” she asked.
She began to ride me up and down, her juices and my come running down the length of my cock and pooling in my pubes. I reached around and grabbed her hard ass, remembering how he’d spread her cheeks and admired the sight of his cock stretching her out. I shuddered and bit my lip to keep from coming again.
She smirked at me. “Are you enjoying this?” she asked as she rolled her hips, creating a delicious swirling sensation around my prick with her hot, drenched sleeve. “Or thinking about this afternoon?”
My cock twitched noticeably.
“Hmm, that’s what I thought,” she gushed. “So what part did you like best? Was it when I sucked his cock? When he bent me over? When I swallowed his load?”
Each phrase caused a corresponding vision to flash into my brain. I didn’t want to answer. She rode me harder. “Come on, Bill. Tell me. There are no secrets between us.”
I didn’t answer.
“Was it when he stood me up and rubbed my clit while he fucked me from behind?”
“No,” I grunted.
“What then?” She was getting increasingly frenzied. Sweat dripped off her and onto my chest. “Was it when I jerked his cock into my mouth?”
“No.”
“Tell me.”
I didn’t want to, but she forced it out of me. Something about her insistent tone and even more insistent bouncing on my prick.
“When you sucked his thumb.”
She hesitated a second as if to recall the circumstance. Then she smiled and again lowered herself onto me. Her body was sweaty. Her breath hot and moist.
“Oh, you’re a dirty, dirty boy,” she cooed. “I did that one just for you.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Oh, but it is. I had a feeling you’d like that. You like it when I’m dirty. When I’m so worked up I can’t say no to anything.”
“Oh God,” I groaned as I came a second time in about ten minutes.
Terri started humping me faster, almost wildly. I could feel my cock beginning to soften, but she didn’t slow. And then, just as my prick was about to slide from her wet channel, I felt her tense, felt her pussy clenching on the tip of my cock that remained inside her.
She laughed. “Just under the wire.”
She rolled off me and laid beside me, naked, gravity flattening her large breasts across her chest.
“Bill, this is a game. And it ends when you want it to end.”
“It isn’t up to me
,” I replied with the same mulish intensity that seemed to overcome me whenever she tried to put it all on me.
“Then, it continues.”
She took a deep breath and rose. I couldn’t help but watch her gorgeous ass as she crossed the room and disappeared into the bathroom to clean up. It was only when the door to the bathroom was safely closed that I managed to say what I really wanted to say. And even then, I said it in a croaked whisper that guaranteed she wouldn’t hear it.
“Terri. Stop.”
Or maybe that’s what I wished I wanted to say because ultimately, saying it that way was my own way of answering the old question about the tree falling in the forest with no one there to hear it. Of course it makes a sound. And yet that doesn’t change a thing.
***
It was my turn to get the kids off to school in the morning. Normally, Terri would have quickly slipped away to work early, but when I woke up still a few minutes before needing to wake the kids, she was only just coming out of the shower. Naked, with a towel wrapped around her hair, she strode around the bedroom without a trace of self-consciousness.
She noticed I was awake.
“Good morning, Sweetie,” she chimed.
“Mornin’.”
She leaned over and gave me a kiss. She smelled of soap and baby powder. She ran her hand over her shaved pussy.
“I always love the way my, um, coochie feels right after I shave,” she noted. “Want to feel?”
“Coochie?”
“Just trying to mix things up,” she smiled. “So, wanna touch?”
“Did you touch it up for Brian?”
“Brian. Mike. You. Maybe someone new? I’ve certainly been getting around recently, haven’t I?”
I grunted.
She laughed and turned away. “Okay. No touchy for you.”
She reached into her closet and selected a pair of thigh-high stockings. She leaned against the wall and gracefully pulled them on, smoothing the tops around her creamy thighs. She gave me a smile. Then she returned to the bathroom, and with the door open, she blow dried her hair. There is something oddly sexy about a woman in nothing but thigh-high stockings blow drying her hair. Or maybe it was mostly the realization that she was getting ready for the day with another man in mind, a thought that continued to be as infuriating as it was disturbingly exciting.
That thought stayed with me as she carefully applied her makeup. Eyeliner, mascara, lip liner, lipstick, and gloss. A spritz of perfume behind each ear, another into the valley between her breasts.
Then back into the bedroom, still naked, big tits hanging out, shaved pussy on display, rose tattoo demanding attention. She turned and reached into her closet, bending at the waist, thrusting her ass in my direction, giving me a flash of vag from behind, the same view I’d gotten yesterday just before Brian stepped forward and shoved his thick tool into my oh-so-eager wife. She pulled out a set of pumps, green and shiny, with wicked, stiletto heels.
“A bit much for work,” I noted with something approximating sangfroid.
She looked at me like I was a dunce. “Well, of course, silly. I’ll change into them before I go over.”
“So you’re going to see him today?”
The question came out before I could catch myself, and worse, my tone was needy, whiny.
“Do you not want me to?” she asked in honeyed tones.
I stewed. “You can do what you want.”
She smiled and reached back into her closet to pull out a green wrap dress, with the V-neck that showed off her cleavage. Curve hugging and easy opening, it was implicitly sexual even had she been wearing a bra and panties. She fastened it closed, and when she walked I could see the lace of her thigh highs peeking out under the above-the-knee hem.
“Well, then I’m going to see Brian.”
“You’re going to a lot of effort just to get bent over a desk,” I sneered.
She smiled sweetly, and I knew I’d walked into another trap. “Oh, he’s not working today. I’m going to go over to his place.” She paused to make sure I was paying attention. “The quickies have been fun, but I’m thinking I’d like to see what he can do with a little more time.” She noted my stricken expression. “That’s still okay, isn’t it?”
I swallowed hard. “Of course.”
She grinned. “You’re the best.” She paused as if suddenly remembering something. “Oh, and Friday? I arranged for the kids to go to my mom’s. So I thought maybe you and I could have dinner and then you could drive me over to Mike’s?”
I stared at her mutely.
“Is that okay Bill?”
Another hard swallow.
“Whatever you want, Dear.”
She leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “Have a good day. I know I will.”
She swiveled and walked out the door, stiletto heels swinging in her hand.
Dirty slut. Cheap whore. Dumb cunt. Bitch. Cheater.
CHAPTER THREE
It is hard enough to stay focused on a spreadsheet without distractions, and the knowledge that Terri was going to be spending part of the day with Brian was a monster of a distraction. I couldn’t even begin to pretend that this was just a tease.
I didn’t understand what Terri was doing. Somehow, we’d driven off a cliff. What had been a game, a perverse, hard-to-explain game between the two of us, and some lucky but clearly secondary other characters, had transformed. I was no longer the pilot or even the co-pilot. Terri was running the show now, and I didn’t know where things would lead.
Mangoes. I thought about our safe word, and the way it had brought the situation with Chucky to a screeching halt. But now I wondered if she would respect it. Terri kept asking me whether I wanted to stop. I did. Or at least I thought I did. So why didn’t I put my foot down? She thought it was because I secretly liked it, but really it was because I secretly suspected that she wouldn’t honor my request. That instead, her desires would push her to continue behind my back. As difficult as it was to deal with my wife sleeping with other men openly, I knew it would kill me if I were to find out she was doing it in secret.
Or… I don’t know. I couldn’t get out of my head. The truth was, I did find it exciting. I wasn’t just stewing morosely. No, what I was doing instead of checking my spreadsheet was imagining Terri with Brian. Fantasizing about it in a way that left me frustrated, ashamed, and yes... excited.
Could I maximize the one emotion without triggering the others? I didn’t know how. I liked the idea of my wife as a lusty vixen. And I knew that if I tried to control it, the excitement would fade… for both of us. I had pushed her toward Chucky, but she’d chosen him. With Jean-Pierre, anyone could see the chemistry developing. That is why the thing with Herb had never gone anywhere. Even if she’d been really into him, I think she would have held back simply to prove to me that I wasn’t in control.
It seemed to me that Terri was saying that my choice was binary. We were in or out. I could determine the whether. But the who, what, where, when of the thing were at her discretion. I accepted that intellectually. It was her body after all. But where did that leave me? And how could things remain in balance? The key was for Terri to read me. To know when enough was enough, when too much was too much.
That was what really scared me. I’d seen it with Chucky, and I thought I was seeing it again now. Once launched, Terri’s sense of perspective faded. She could be reckless, even hurtful in feeding her passions. And that is where we were now. Even though I said to myself that I wanted her to stop, what I really wanted was for her to slow down. But that wasn’t an option she left me. On or off. Dichotomous. No shades of grey. Just black and white.
***
I realized something was wrong the moment Terri came home. Her trysts usually left her confident, a little giddy, but today she was oddly subdued.
“Hey,” she said quietly as she entered.
She didn’t make eye contact with me, even as she dropped down and gave each kid a hug. As usual, the requirements of parent
ing came first, and we both tiptoed around each other as long as they were awake. There was clearly something wrong, but it was nothing we could discuss until they were down.
She quickly disappeared upstairs and changed out of her wrap dress and into jeans and a college sweatshirt. She cleaned off her makeup and pulled her hair into a ponytail. Gone was the hungry vixen who’d left in the morning, replaced by a soccer mom. And yet, I still found her beautiful in her stripped down, casual attire. She was sexy clothed or unclothed, formal or causal.
I’d spent much of the day jealous and angry, but my main emotion at seeing Terri in some distress was concern. She didn’t seem in any sort of physical pain, so I was pretty sure Brian hadn’t hurt her. But something unexpected had happened.
I can’t pretend that I didn’t feel a little schadenfreude. I did. But it didn’t last long. Whatever was going on between us couldn’t change the fact that I was desperately in love with my wife, that I wanted her to be happy above all else. That’s why we were here, after all, I was addicted to seeing her gloriously resplendent.
“I’m sorry,” she said from behind me.
I startled. I hadn’t expected her back so soon from putting the kids to bed. I turned to see her standing in the kitchen, legs crossed, a sheepish expression on her face.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
I approached her slowly. She shrank from me almost imperceptibly. It reminded me of a skittish kitten.
“Did he hurt you?” I persisted.
She shook her head. “No. It’s not like that, but things got a little… out of hand.”
My mind raced. What did that even mean? I’d seen her suck and fuck this man. I’d seen her take his cock in her pussy, drink down his come, take his thumb in her ass. What did she think would shock me? What had shocked her?
And then I thought about what he’d told me about Terri. That was she was a wild slut. That if given the opportunity, she’d take on a roomful of guys.
My mind, always hyperactive when it came to Terri’s sexuality, helpfully conjured up a lurid scene. My wife naked on a messy bed, surrounded by tattooed muscleheads in various states of undress. Some enthralled by the sight of a hot blond getting pounded, others laughing and joking at the dirty slut Brian had provided and what they would do to her. A tawdry scene. Dark.
