Two Sides of Terri

by Ben Boswell

  As I walked into the bedroom, I noticed that the air was still damp from the shower. I heard the hair drier blowing in the bathroom. And then on the bed I saw an open shipping package from Agent Provocateur. This was all very promising.

  A moment later, Terri strode out of the bathroom and I literally gasped. She was a vision in thigh-high stockings and an indigo lace corselet. A garter and g-string thong completed the outfit. She’d styled her hair into those loose spiral curls I always loved, and while her makeup was generally subdued, her lips were glossy, bright red.

  She startled as she saw me. Then smiled.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I sort of broke the bank on these.”

  “For me?”

  She bit her fingertip. “No, sweety, I’m sorry. This is for Chucky.”

  My face flushed and my heart began to pound.

  “You wh...” I caught myself. The word mangoes hammered in head. I wanted to call it off. End it. Take her myself. Ravage every inch of her.

  She didn’t seem to notice my turmoil. Or maybe she did, but deliberately ignored it. Instead, she pulled a short, black, shift dress over her head and stepped into a pair of black stiletto heels.

  I forced myself to breathe. “When are you seeing him?”

  “Oh honey, I’m already late. If I don’t get out of here right away, he’s going to punish me,” she replied with a convincing tone of wide eyed apprehension. I wondered when she’d become such a talented actress.

  “Um, okay.”

  “And don’t wait up, honey,” she added. “I think he has a long night planned for me.”

  He apparently did. She didn’t make it home until after 3:00am.

  --------

  She doled out the story to me in small increments over the next few days. She’d become very adept at painting me searingly erotic portraits of their encounters.

  She described in meticulous detail how he’d taken off her dress and pushed her to knees. How she’d blown him, and how he’d held out until she begged him to finish in her mouth.

  They’d moved to the bedroom. He’d put her on the bed on all fours, still in her lingerie, and disciplined her—for being late, for not answering his texts. He’d spanked her until her bottom burned. Then he’d slipped his hand inside the corselet and pinched her nipples as she squirmed in pain, her whines making him hard. He’d taken her from behind, sliding her g-string to the side, hammering her hard, and finishing inside her.

  Then he stripped her and put her on her back, ordered her to pull her knees to her chest. He’d fingered her wet snatch, feeding her his digits, making her taste herself mingled with his cum. He’d fingered her ass as she’d squirmed in discomfort. Then he sodomized her, hard, demanding that she tell him how much she liked it.

  They showered and returned to bed naked. He produced a fat butt plug, insisted she take it in her ass. Then he rested on his back and demanded she ride him, make him come as he squeezed, pinched, and slapped her breasts.

  She told each story in all its particulars, slowly, dragging out each revelation, making me visualize each scene, how she’d felt, how he’d acted, how her body had responded.

  --------

  God, I was close. She was bobbing up and down on my cock, her hand massaging my balls, demonstrating how she’d taken care of Chucky earlier that same evening. It was intoxicating. Her enthusiasm, knowing she’d done the same for another man just hours before. She looked up at me, her big blue eyes locking on mine, her eyelids heavy. It was too much. With a shudder, I filled her mouth with come, which she dutifully swallowed.

  “God, you’re amazing,” I moaned.

  “Chucky agrees with you.” She said it with a grin.

  Despite having just climaxed, I felt my cock twitch with excitement.

  I sat her up beside me and slid my hand between her legs, slowly drawing my finger down the length of her pussy, feeling her puffy labia, gently circling her clit.

  “Do you like that?”

  “Mmm, yes, of course, that feels so nice,” she cooed, pressing against me.

  “No, I mean, what you did before. What you did to me.”

  She laughed. “Are you asking me if I like giving head?”

  I nodded.

  “I do it enough that I think you know the answer. Why? Do I seem like I might not?”

  “No, I mean...but why? Is it just giving pleasure? Do you like the taste?”

  She snorted. “Oh God, hardly. Come feels like warm slime and tastes like bleach.”

  I felt my face drop.

  “I’m exaggerating,” she replied quickly, though I realized she wasn’t. “But the taste isn’t the high point. But...” Her voice dropped an octave and continued with a husky rasp. “...I do like the feel of a hard cock in my mouth. And I love what it does to you.”

  And Chucky.

  But it was weird. Even though she said she enjoyed it, it made me feel guilty. Even though she accepted the tradeoff, it bothered me. Just not enough to stop. Coming in her mouth, her eyes locked on mine.... God, it was hot. And yet, I wished it wasn’t. I was taking pleasure from her discomfort in a way, wasn’t I? Or was I?

  It had always been so simple. Our old sex life, conventional and vanilla, had the benefit of being mutually enjoyable throughout. But now, we were in a different world, where jealousy mixed with excitement, where betrayal became an expression of love, and where discomfort was a source of pleasure. In some ways, I wished we could go back to vanilla. And yet I didn’t.

  I never knew it could be like this. And I didn’t want to go back. But I needed to find a way to become congruent. To experience the passion without feeling the guilt. To live the excitement without the constant sense of inchoate dread that plagued me when I thought of Chucky.

  --------

  My birthday arrived without much fanfare. Terri said she’d take me out to dinner at Mateo’s, which is nice, but just a low-key neighborhood place. After the party I’d thrown her, it was a little disappointing. She seemed to be putting more effort into planning her dates with Chucky than my birthday dinner.

  She didn’t even get dressed up. I mean, she looked good. She always does. But her jeans and sweater were a far cry from a lace corselet or a slinky wrap dress. Still, I swallowed my disappointment and tried to be cheerful. We shared a bunch of small plates and a bottle of wine. I kept expecting her to say something about my birthday, but she didn’t, and I admit I was feeling a little sulky as we got back to the house. The kids were at my folks, so at least we’d probably fool around, although even that didn’t seem a sure thing given how casually she was behaving.

  Once we got home things suddenly changed.

  She took both my hands in hers. “Do you trust me?”

  “Um, yeah,” I replied a little nervously.

  She smiled and reached into her purse, pulling out a long, silk scarf.

  “What’s that for?”

  She answered by getting on her tiptoes and wrapping it around my head three times, over my eyes, and tying it tightly behind me.

  “Can you see anything?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Do you still trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  I had no idea what she was up to. Did she have a surprise gift for me? A new TV? A new car? Somehow I knew it wasn’t anything like that. No, there was something about her tone, about the feel of the silk on across my eyes, that hinted at something sexual instead.

  She confirmed my suspicions as she began to undress me. She unbuttoned my shirt and slipped it off. Then my shoes and socks. She took her time with my pants, letting her fingers trace my crotch through the fabric before unbuckling my belt and pulling my slacks and boxers off. She helped me step out of my clothes. I shivered a little, mostly at the awkwardness of being blindfolded and totally naked.

  Without a word, she took my hand and carefully led me upstairs. We walked into our bedroom and Terri maneuvered me into a heavy, upholstered armchair. As I sat, I felt that she’d placed a towel on the
fabric.

  I startled a little as her tongue flicked against my shaft. I groaned as she moved away. I reached out for her, wanting to pull her close, but she just giggled and caught my flailing hand in a firm grip.

  “We’re going to have to do something about these,” she said. She took my hand and pressed it firmly down on the armrest. A moment later, she encircled my wrist with a thick leather strap.

  I laughed. “Kinky.”

  But it didn’t feel like a game a moment later when she tightened the strap and I realized I was bound to the chair.

  “Do you trust me?” she asked again.

  I nodded, although I was feeling very vulnerable, a feeling that only worsened as she strapped my other wrist to the chair. And then my ankles. I was naked, completely at her mercy.

  She stood and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Then without another word, I heard her pad quietly out of the room. From downstairs I heard the stereo come on, something with a slow, persistent bass line, though I couldn’t identify it further. I don’t know how long she left me there. It could have been five minutes or twenty.

  I strained my ears to try to make sense of the situation. Was that a door opening? Did I just hear voices? Was she talking on the telephone or was that the TV? Had she just opened the fridge? I yanked at my tethers, and found them to be even more durable than I had realized. I was well and truly restrained.

  My mind raced and, as it did, my thoughts turned to Chucky. Had she invited him over? Were they even now fucking downstairs, giggling at my predicament? The idea was erotic and painful all at once.

  Then suddenly I felt a presence in the room. I didn’t quite hear anything, not consciously at least, but it was a sensation. I was startled when I felt fingertips lightly trail over my bare thigh.

  “Terri?”

  She, if it was even her, didn’t answer. A dark thought entered my mind. Had we crossed into some bizarre humiliation game? I have no idea why, but for a moment I had a vision that the person touching me wasn’t Terri, was instead a man, a slender homosexual man, and that Terri and Chucky were in the doorway of the bedroom watching me going gay.

  I shivered and instinctively yanked at my bounds. I almost screamed out mangoes. But would it have made a difference? Or would only serve to complete their cruel game.

  That scenario vanished as quickly as it arose when I felt a strand of silky hair slide across my belly. Suddenly an alternative captured my attention. Had Terri gotten me another woman? Was she even now watching as a young prostitute prepared to blow me? Did it make her jealous? Turn her on? Did she like the idea of me having sex with another woman as much as I liked the idea of her fucking Chucky?

  I gasped as the woman took me in her mouth. I felt her nipples brush against my legs. The sensation was so familiar that I knew instantly it was Terri, although being blindfolded somehow made it feel different. Also was the fact that her technique had changed over recent months. Again I was getting treated to Terri the whore as she blew me sloppily, her hands working my shaft vigorously.

  She obviously wanted to get me off fast, and knowing that she would swallow my come when I did was another form of encouragement. Had it really been less than three months since her birthday? Since I’d first finished in her mouth sitting in our driveway? My mind raced through the events since, just small fragments, not dwelling on any one detail, and yet it was enough. Before I knew it, I was coming hard, my orgasm somehow stronger for the restraints which seemed to channel all my passion into my penis.

  After I came, she became more gentle, tender, suckling gently on my prick, her head resting against my abdomen. I wanted her to release me so I could stroke her hair and carry her off to bed.

  “She’s good at that, isn’t she?”

  I bolted upright and strained at the straps.

  “Chucky?”

  “Only girls call me Chucky. Guys call me Chuck.”

  Terri was still in my lap, her bare breasts resting on my thighs, her hands gently massaging my belly. It was intensely intimate, but uncomfortable, embarrassing to know we had an audience.

  “Your wife’s always been a wonderful little cocksucker,” he said.

  I choked back my impulse to say, Thank you.

  He continued his monologue. “You should see the view I have. She’s naked, you know. Up on her knees, bent over your lap, flashing me her pretty, bald little pussy.”

  I couldn’t think of how to reply. What to say. I thought of our safe word, but I realized I didn’t want this to end. I needed to know what would happen next.

  “Maybe I should go in for a closer look. What do you think Bill, should I get closer to your wife’s bare twat?”

  “If that’s what you want,” I grunted involuntarily.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, that’s definitely what I want.” His voice was closer.

  Terri moaned.

  “Terri? Are you okay?” I don’t know why I said it. Her sounds were undeniably those of pleasure.

  She didn’t answer.

  “Tell him, tell him what I am doing,” Chucky commanded.

  “He’s fingering my...my pussy,” she gasped.

  “She’s so hot and tight. And wet, Bill. Do you think she’s wet for you, or for me?”

  I groaned. “I don’t know.”

  He chuckled again. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? Either way, she’s ready for me.”

  Terri gasped again.

  “Tell him,” Chucky ordered again.

  “He’s inside me. His cock is inside me.”

  I shuddered, felt my cock twitch. Terri noticed it, too. She took me in her mouth, and as she did, he began fucking her, driving her face into my lap over and over. I could feel the power of his thrusts transmitted through her body. I heard his flesh slap against hers as his cock plunged over and over into her wet pussy.

  Then she groaned again, the tone whining rather than sultry.

  “Tell him,” he demanded before I could ask.

  “His thumb...in my ass...” she grunted between thrusts.

  My prick was fully engorged. She swallowed me deep. I gasped. I was close. Then suddenly she pulled away. I whined in frustration. Dark thoughts coursed through my mind as I imagined them pulling away from me, coupling just yards away, forcing me to hear their sounds as I sat in frustration.

  But instead, I felt Terri climb into my lap and confidently impale herself on my cock. She was hot and wet, but also loose from Chucky’s rough pounding. In recent weeks, I’d been introduced to sloppy seconds, but this was the first time I’d experienced a freshly fucked pussy, literally entering her seconds after him.

  It was an intensely erotic thought, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Terri rose and fell on me just twice before she suddenly stiffened.

  “Are you okay?” I said.

  But before she could answer, I felt it. His cock entering her ass. She wrapped her arms around my neck and squeezed me tight, a hissing gasp escaping her lips. He pressed into her, slowly but firmly, confidently, brooking no resistance. I felt it intimately, felt his cockhead forcing its way deeper inside her, rubbing against my own cock almost as if there were nothing separating us at all.

  He pulled out and drove back into her hard. She grunted. I gasped. Then again. And again. Her nipples were rock hard, pressed into my chest.

  And then suddenly she screamed, “Oh my fucking God.”

  She came hard. And before I knew it, I was climaxing as well. But he wasn’t done. Even as my erection faded and I slipped from Terri, our juices drenching my lap, he continued to sodomize her.

  I could never have imagined being in this situation. She clenched to me tighter, gasping and wheezing into my ear. He was using her, each thrust palpable as she pressed against me. I could hear him groaning with pleasure, his own sounds surprisingly close. Then with a contented sigh, he finished inside her. I could feel his every shudder conducted through her body.

  He withdrew and she relaxed, melting against me, still breathing hard, but her cheek
now resting in the crook of my neck. She caught her breath and leaned back, sitting on my thighs.

  She removed the scarf from my eyes. Even though she’d dimmed the lights, it still took me a few moments to adapt to the change in brightness. Then my eyes found hers. She gave me a searching look, trying to ascertain if I was okay. I wasn’t sure I was, but I gave her a quick nod just the same. She smiled brightly.

  Chucky emerged from the bathroom, buck naked, looking very fit and pleased with himself. His dong hung before him, flaccid but still impressive. She’d told me we were the same size, but now I wondered if she’d just been trying to spare my feelings.

  She disentangled herself from me, loosening the cuff on my right wrist. I was now free if I wanted to be, but I remained in place just as if I were still fully restrained. He handed Terri a damp washcloth and she wiped herself down with casual ease. It was a small gesture, but telling. My wife had become the kind of woman could unselfconsciously give herself a whore’s bath standing naked between two lovers.

  She had moved the armchair so that it sat at the foot of the bed, and when he sat down on the mattress, he was positioned directly in front of me, just a few feet away. He patted the bed and my wife curled up beside him like a cat, her head in his lap, coaxing another erection out of him.

  “I was wrong,” he said, pausing cryptically.

  “Oh?” I replied.

  He grinned. “She does have a beautiful pussy, but these tits are just perfect,” he said as he cupped one of her breasts and proceeded to knead it forcefully.

  He was immensely pleased with himself, though I couldn’t tell if he got off on the sex itself, or whether it was having sex with another man’s wife, or if what really got him going was fucking my wife particularly.

  He was pinching her nipples, stretching them out. She responded like a perfect little submissive slut, sucking his cock more vigorously, massaging his balls, getting him hard. Just feet away, I could see every detail, hear ever slurp and lick.

  When I looked back up at his face, finally tearing my eyes away from the scene in his lap, he gave me a cocky smile. I couldn’t blame him, although I had a momentary instinct to reach out and slap him silly. He read my mood perfectly because he proceeded to twist in the knife.