The Crush: An Affair in Three Parts

by Ben Boswell

If he felt as awkward as I did, he didn't show it. I gave him a wan smile as I ran my hands nervously through my thinning, mouse-brown hair.

  "So, Dave, Annie says you teach at McConnell Academy? I spent a summer at Choate. Hated it." He said with a grin.

  I stared at him, as one might a space alien. Who was this man? And what was he doing in my home? He was calm, confident, and I tried to choke out a response.

  "Well, um, I guess it isn't for everyone. Some of our stu..."

  I stopped as Ann reappeared. She handed Greg his drink and gave me a second beer. She had poured herself a big glass of white wine. She took a generous gulp, and staring right at him with gleaming eyes, she said, "so, shall we head upstairs?"

  I remember thinking that it was happening so fast, so fast. Except, I realized, it wasn’t. Annie, at least, had been thinking of this moment for a long time. She’d probably fantasized about it hundreds of time. But I’d been in denial, and so was unprepared. I didn’t know what to think or do. I looked over at Greg who gave me a quick wink. It was disconcerting. I felt dizzy.

  She led the way and I noticed that Greg seemed almost transfixed by the gentle sway of her behind. We followed her into the bedroom. She dimmed the lights as we entered. She pulled me aside and led me over to the armchair in the corner.

  "Honey, I want you here to keep me safe. And I want you here because I don't want any secrets between us. And I want you here because I love you."

  I gaped at her. Not just at the sentiment that I didn’t really understand, but at the realization that she’d practiced this speech many times in her mind. She sat me down and turned off the reading lamp behind me, leaving me in the shadows.

  Yet, as insane as it was, her words put me somewhat at ease. She wasn’t off cheating on me. She was exploring her own desires with me as a partner in crime. Still, as she left me, I very much felt alone, a fourth wall rising up between them and me, as I became nothing more than a spectator.

  She approached Greg who was standing near the foot of the bed. She circled him, running her perfectly manicured red fingernails over his chest and shoulders. This was another new thing. When had she started painting her nails? And how could I have missed it? She pulled off his suit jacket, and then moving to his front, she removed his tie. Slowly, she unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it open to expose his broad chest. She ran her hands through his thick chest hair, and then leaned forward to kiss his nipples in turn. Greg took a big swig of his drink.

  She dropped to her knees. Greg slipped his shirt off completely, exposing his sculpted arms. She undid his belt, and then slowly pulled down his zipper and unbuttoned his pants. Looking up at him, she grasped his pants and slid them off his butt. They fell to the floor with a jangling of keys. As he stepped out of his pants, Ann ran her fingernails over the fabric of his silk boxers. Her fingertips tracing the outline of his bulge. He let out a little groan. With a delighted giggle she pulled down his shorts.

  "Oh baby, no wonder all the girls are so upset to see you leave," she cooed in a voice I’d never quite heard before, expressing a sentiment it would never have occurred to me she’d have. Deep, throaty, and sultry, she sounded like a dame out of an old film noir.

  Like my wife, my gaze was drawn to his crotch. He was still soft, but already huge. His cock looked like a thick dark sausage, and his balls were the size of plums. He was uncircumcised, and big veins ran up the side of his dick. Though Greg was elegant and trim, his prick was an ugly fat tool. At least it seemed that way to me. Not to her though.

  Annie gently cupped his scrotum and ran her tongue up and down his shaft. Gripping his cock, she slowly stroked him, gradually pulling down his foreskin and exposing his thick, spongy glans, which she eagerly took into her mouth. As she sucked the head of his cock, she pumped his shaft up and down first with one hand and then with two as he got bigger and harder. In just a few minutes he was fully erect, his thick pole jutting out proudly. It was now the size of a tallboy beer can, maybe even a little thicker if that is possible. Annie seemed to be in awe, giggling as she struggled to handle his bulk. Finally, she seemed to give up. She stood up and ran her tongue up his chest, one hand still moving up and down on his shaft while the other massaged his arms and neck.

  He ran his hands through her long, auburn hair, cupping the back of her head and pulling her into a passionate kiss. She seemed to melt into him, her hands roaming over his fit body. After a few minutes of these intimate caresses, she stepped back and just looked him up and down as if not quite believing that she was actually making out with this amazing specimen of manhood.

  Now it was his turn. He bent down and picked up her hem with both hands. Slowly, he lifted the fabric, peeling the dress off her body. I gasped as the material slid off her ass and I saw she wasn't wearing any panties. She raised her arms above her head to allow him to remove her dress completely. She hadn't worn a bra either. She turned to toss the dress over a chair, and I noticed that instead of her usual neatly trimmed auburn bush, she was now completely bare. I realized that she had planned all this in advance, and I couldn't help but be jealous at the thought of her shaving for him and spending the day bare-assed in anticipation of seducing him. I wondered for how long she'd been thinking of him, maybe instead of me, even as we made love.

  Greg definitely seemed to appreciate what he was being offered. He looked her up and down, admiring her lean legs, tight little butt, and those oh-so-perfect 34-c breasts. He cupped her boobs in his big hands, his thumbs gentle circling her long, hard, nipples.

  "Magnificent, just magnificent," he intoned.

  She blushed and giggled. He took her by the hand and sat her down on the bed. She scooted up and laid back, her legs spread invitingly. I could see her shaved snatch glistening with excitement.

  He crawled up onto the bed and started to kiss her leg, first by the ankle, then along her calf, and finally trailing his tongue along her inner thigh. She squirmed excitedly at his touch. He began to lower his head to her pussy, but she reached down and taking a handful of his hair, she pulled him up.

  "I want it inside me," she hissed urgently, as she reached down and rubbed his cock along her slit.

  He lifted himself up on his muscular arms, and then with a quick thrust, the tip of his prick disappeared inside her. Annie threw her head back and gasped.

  "Oh damn Red, you are so wet," he grunted and with two quick strokes he was completely inside her.

  As she grabbed his ass cheeks and held him tight, her whole body jerked up a dozen times. "I'm coming. I'm coming already," she hissed, her eyes rolling back into her head and her eyelashes fluttering wildly.

  He waited for her to finish, and watched her as she enjoyed the afterglow. She had her eyes closed and a big, silly smile on her lips. She was caressing her body absentmindedly, her fingers sliding over her still hard nipples as her hands gradually rose up and came together up above her head painting a tableau of sexual contentment.

  With a big grin he started to move inside her.

  "Oh, oh, slow, slow, go slow," she moaned, her big blue eyes now open and looking up at her lover anxiously. Annie's very sensitive after coming, sometimes so much so that she has to finish me with her hands. I could only imagine that she'd have an even harder time with Greg's oversized member.

  He started gently pumping his cock in and out of her tight little pussy. Her labia were puffy, swollen, and they clung to his shaft as he slowly fucked her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms encircling his neck. With each slow, deliberate thrust Annie let out a heartbreaking, sultry moan. She'd already finished once, and he might have chosen to simply pleasure himself, but instead Greg seemed determined to fully possess my wife.

  "Is that okay?" he asked.

  "Oh God yes," she gasped in reply. "More than okay. Much, much more than okay."

  "You are so tight," he grunted.

  "You're so big," she moaned.

  He grabbed her around the waist and rolled over onto his back. She pulled her knees bene
ath her and rose up on top of him. Fully impaled on his shaft, she slowly ground her pelvis against his, as his hands reached up to cup and caress her full breasts. Her nipples were hard, plump raspberries, and when he tweaked them, she groaned excitedly and started fucking him harder, rising up on his big shaft and then roughly lowering herself until he was fully inside her again. He grabbed her firm ass and encouraged her, now spreading her butt cheeks, and giving me an unobstructed view as his finger teased her puckered anus.

  Over and over she rose and fell, fucking him harder and harder, faster and faster. She was gasping and wheezing, completely lost in the moment, focused on nothing other than wringing the maximum pleasure from Greg's huge cock. And then suddenly she let out a lusty growl, her hips now thrashing back and forth as she climaxed a second time. I let out a pained sigh. She'd never had multiple orgasms with me. She collapsed lazily onto his chest.

  He let her catch her breath, and then they rolled over again. Annie pulled her knees to her chest, opening herself completely for him. And Greg, after a few slow strokes, began fucking her hard and fast, his huge cock pistoning into her pussy brutally.

  Ann was gasping and grunting, letting out high-pitched, almost pained, squeals on each stroke. For a moment, I was perversely pleased. I knew she didn't like it this rough, and certainly not after having come. I kept expecting her to ask him to stop, and the image flashed through my mind of him refusing, and me having to step in to save her.

  But she didn't ask for help. Instead, when he slowed down momentarily to check on her, she grabbed his ass and grunted wildly, "No, don't stop, don't stop!"

  He gave her a wet kiss and then resumed his remorseless assault on her pussy, his fat prick like a battering ram plunging over and over into my wife. My heart sank. I could never compete with him, with his looks and body and his cock. He was giving her the fuck of her life. There was no denying it. And she'd never be satisfied with me again.

  I'd had enough. I got up and slunk out of the room unnoticed, Annie's cries of passion taunting me as I staggered down the hall and downstairs.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I locked myself in my study. It was obviously over. I'd lost her. I tried to replay everything in mind. What could I have done differently? Should I have exploded when she'd first mentioned her crush? Issued an ultimatum? By then, of course, it was too late. Temptation would have surely won out, bolstered by resentment at my attitude. By the time she mentioned it to me, she'd already decided to fuck him, and when she fucked him she'd realize what she had been missing.

  I realized I’d been in denial, and not just since she’d told me about Greg. She’s always been out of my league, and it was only a matter of time before a Greg came into her life. How could I compete? He was… beautiful. That’s the word she’d used. And I had to admit it was true. As gorgeous as she was, he was her equal. Her match. Handsome, trim, and tailored. He made more than me; his suit alone was easily two months of my take-home pay. And that prick. I’d thought it ugly, too big, and yet from the moment he’d entered her, she was lost, conquered.

  I wanted to hate her, blame her. But I couldn’t. Not easily at least. It occurred to me that I should be happy for her. She deserved it, and really, I should be grateful to have had her for a decade.

  At some level I knew this was all self-pitying bullshit. Just my own emotional upheaval. And yet, and yet, and yet… I couldn’t shake it. That’s the thing about psychological turmoil. It’s not like in the movies. There is no sudden moment of clarity and comprehension. It is possible to simultaneous realize one is in the thrall to delusion and depression and yet not be able to shake it.

  I began to make plans. I'd have to move out. I could probably stay with my buddy Rich for a while, though even thinking of having to explain it all to him was painful. No, I'd stay in a hotel. Maybe apply for jobs elsewhere. Move away. Start over.

  Then I paused. No, fuck that. That was the coward's way out. Anyone can just run away. It takes a man to fight. She was my fucking wife. Why should I let some two-bit gigolo take her away just because he had a big cock? Maybe that's what this was all about. We'd talked about starting a family, and maybe Ann was just subconsciously testing me, trying to see whether I'd fight to protect her and the kids. Well, if she wanted a fighter, I could fight. I got up and strode to the door.

  Then I stopped. Did I even want to fight for her? I'd always thought she was different, a genuinely good girl, good person. Sweet, genuine, smart, driven, yet grounded. The last girl in the world to fall for a good head of hair and a big prick. But what if I was seeing the real her for the first time, a cheap whore, a slut who'd just been waiting for the opportunity to spread her legs for a big cock and a well-tailored suit. She wasn't even worth fighting for. She'd probably been doing this for years, fucking guys left and right, and the only difference now was that she wanted to add a little humiliation into the mix by making me watch.

  I shook my head. I was just talking crazy. I knew my wife better than that. No this was just what it appeared to be. An office crush, the big 3-0 leaving her feeling old, and the natural curiosity of a woman who'd only ever had one lover. But whatever the causes, it was what it was. And she'd now been fucked better than she'd ever been in her life and I’d been there to watch it. There was no going back. I slumped back down in my chair and just stared at the wall morosely for hours, my thoughts continuing to circle and churn even as I became more and more depressed.

  At around 2:00am, I heard the front door open and then shut, and a moment later a car start up outside and drive away. I couldn't move, however, and stayed in my office until Annie came looking for me a half-hour later.

  She had showered. She smelled of soap and was dressed in a cozy bathrobe, looking not at all like a woman who had just spend the last several hours being fucked silly by a well-hung stud in our marital bed.

  She looked me and gave me a sympathetic nod.

  "Do you want to talk about it now? Or tomorrow morning?" she asked.

  "What is there to talk about?" I muttered glumly.

  She walked over to me, and kneeled down beside me. She took my hand in her.

  "I understand," she replied. "But at least let me say a few things. First, thank you. You're a brave, brave man, and I love you more than ever for letting me do that. It was something I, um, I guess I needed to do. Second, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I was weak and so tempted. And I'm terribly, terribly sorry to have made you watch. That was cruel. But I felt like I needed you there to give me permission. Third, I know this won't be easy, can't be easy for you, but I want us to get past this, to work past it. I know that isn't fair. You did nothing wrong, but obviously I can't make it right by myself. You need to want to."

  I half-snorted.

  "What?" she asked, hurt.

  "Oh please."

  Her eyes watered up, and a single tear ran down her left cheek.

  “What are you saying Dave?”

  “It’s over, isn’t it?

  "You want a divorce?" she asked. Her voice was shaky with incredulity.

  "Well, don't you?" I snapped.

  "Me?" She looked shocked. "No, of course not."

  "I saw you with him! Saw the way he... he... he... fucked you. You've never come like that with me. Never. Never let me fuck you that way." I was barely holding back tears.

  She patted my hand. "Oh baby, I'm so sorry, but that was just sex. Good sex. Very good sex. But it was purely physical. I don't love you any less because another man gave me an orgasm."

  "Admit it, it was the best sex of your life."

  "No," she snapped. "It wasn't. You and I have been together for a long time. I love our sex life. It is tender, passionate. We know each other so well. I wouldn't trade it for the world."

  I rolled my eyes. "How many times did you do it with him?"

  She blushed. "Three times. He finished three times."

  "And you?"

  She sighed. "I don't know. I lost track. A lot." She paused. "Look, I enjoyed myself with Gre
g. He's a very good lover."

  "And big," I exclaimed.

  "Yes, Dave, and big. He has a huge, fat cock, and he knows how to use it. Happy?"

  I grunted.

  "But… I don't know how to explain this, so you'll just have to trust me. It was good sex, but sex with you is great because we have such a great connection. And one thing that makes our sex so good is that it isn't just physical. We have loving sex, and it doesn't need four hours and a half-dozen position changes to make it special. God, I wish I could explain better, but I just can't."

  She looked at me sadly. "Are you worried that you won't satisfy me anymore?" she asked.

  I half nodded. "I don't know. I don't know that you can even feel me anymore."

  She smiled thinly. "Oh that?"

  She bent down toward my hand and took my middle finger into her mouth. Then she stood up and pulled my hand inside her robe. She was naked beneath. She eased my hand between her legs, and pressed my finger against her slit.

  "Go ahead," she encouraged.

  It was insane. What was I doing? What was she doing? Both of us were navigating uncharted waters, and in a moment of surrealism, I pressed my finger into her pussy. It was damp, very warm, and much to my surprise still very tight.

  "Do I feel different?"

  "No," I admitted.

  "Baby, come to bed. Please. We'll talk more tomorrow."

  I withdrew my finger, and she took my hand and led me upstairs. She'd changed the sheets, even swapped out the comforter. We lay down in bed together. She curled up against me, and almost immediately dozed off. I couldn't sleep, couldn't get out of my head the image of her being fucked in this very bed. But I stayed there with her the rest of the night, lost in thought, still replaying those debates in my head, but now even more confused and unsure about what to do next.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I must have finally drifted off because when I opened my eyes it was daylight. A bright, clear Saturday morning. I went downstairs to find Annie stretching and getting ready to go for a run. She jumped up, gave me a hug and kiss, and said, "I'll be back in a little while."