by James, Lucy
“Have sex with me the way I know you want to. Forget the right and wrong, son and wife bullshit. This isn’t rape and you aren’t a victim. I want to feel you grab me like I’ve seen you do with my dad. I want to have claw marks down my back for the next week! But if you can’t find the bitch inside you to fuck me like I want you to, then I got some pills that will help you go all night long!”
“No, not that. I can do it without that.”
“Then close your eyes and pretend I’m my dad, cause I’m not done with you till I’m done.” The tone of his voice made it impossible to argue.
I closed my eyes to help me to get past the wrongness and simply focus on the man that was between my thighs. I caught his scent as he nuzzled my neck again. I raised my hands to touch him for the first time since all this started.
I let the feel of his muscles stimulate my senses, the smell of his shower gel, the feel of him moving in and out, his hand on my breast kneading and pinching, the feel of him teasing my nipple. The saving grace came to my closed eyes then, a picture of Mark making love to me, just like this.
It was easier to respond to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed the skin there, nipping the sweet spot behind the ear. I heard him gasp in pleasure. I reached down between our bodies and took hold of his balls, rubbing them as he pumped in and out. I felt them tighten up as the pace quickened. A few seconds later, he shook with a climax, harshly ramming himself in and out of me.
It was done. After he pulled his jeans up, he reached down to help me to my feet. He handed me my clothes in silence. Neither one of us made eye contact as he ushered me inside the house. He stood in the doorway while I entered the kitchen and then turned as he spoke.
“I’ll never touch you again. I promise.” With that, he returned to his tractor.
I closed the door and headed to the bathroom. I was still in the bath by the time Mark came home. The water had long gone cold; I just couldn’t find it in myself to get up. I think I might have fallen asleep but it was wishful thinking. I just sat there and stared into nothing. I vaguely remember hearing voices, maybe shouting. The slamming of a door, maybe two, maybe something fell over. I didn’t really care to know.
Mark knocked and then entered the bathroom when I didn’t reply. He looked down at me. He reached slowly for a towel, opened and motioned for me to stand. I complied, mute. So much to say and I didn’t know how to say it. My handsome and wonderful husband was lost to me forever. I just wanted to keep as many moments with him as I could.
“Something happened,” I stated weakly.
“I know, he told me,” Mark replied. I was shocked and didn’t hide it. “It’s not your fault, no matter what he said. It’s mine.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Billy told me a long time ago that he was going to ‘tap that’ as he put it. I didn’t think he was serious. It wasn’t the only time he mentioned it either. In fact, he made a comment the other day about it, and still I didn’t say anything. I never thought he would… hurt you like that. So I didn’t say or do anything about it.”
We silently stared at each other for a minute. Mark removed my towel, put it on the rack and began undressing.
“How about we try this; I’ll get in the shower with you. We will cleanse ourselves of today’s events as best we can. I told Billy that if I’m not home, he’s not here. In fact, Billy won’t be back in our home until you give your approval.”
“Do you mean that?” I asked with relieved uncertainty. “He’s your son.”
“You’re my wife, Tracy,” he stated with absolute sincerity. “My son had no right to do what he did, no matter what he thought.”
I looked lamely towards the tub. “I don’t think there’s any hot water left,” I stated lamely.
“It’s okay, we’ll just wait a few minutes.” He stepped closer to me. I went to him as soon as he faced me and tucked myself against his body. With my head resting at his shoulder and his arms around me, we stood like that for an indiscernible amount of time, our naked bodies melding into a single unit of comfort and togetherness.
“Let’s see if there’s hot water yet,” he suggested quietly. I nodded. He reached to turn the knobs, and fixing the water to create a slight steam, he wrapped his arms around me once more in the shower, and rested his head beside mine. We stood like that while the hot water slowly ran out.
