Two Sides of Terri

by Ben Boswell

  “She is so giving. And I’ve been taking everything, haven’t I?” He taunted as his hand slid in her butt crack, reminding me again that he’d taken her anal virginity, that indeed he was still the only man to buttfuck her. “But that’s only fair, considering that you took her away from me.”

  There was something about that sentence that struck me as odd, but I didn’t have time to process it before he jammed two fingers deep in her pussy. She gasped at the intrusion.

  “Such a juicy cunt. Should I fuck her again?”

  I didn’t answer. But I didn’t look away either. And the hungry look on my face seemed to be enough to satisfy his desire for my acquiescence.

  He pulled her into his lap and she eagerly impaled herself on his cock. She reached behind her and rested her hands on his thighs, and rode him like that, back arched, face to the ceiling.

  “That’s it, baby, fuck me good,” he groaned as he abused her boobs, mauling and slapping them hard. The rougher he was, the more she responded, gasping, moaning, bouncing up and down like a woman possessed.

  After a few minutes, he seized her by the scruff of the neck and pulled her body against his. Then reaching down, he spread her ass cheeks and began thrusting upward vigorously, giving me a explicit view of his cock pounding into her pussy, of her anus, red and puffy from his earlier abuse.

  I remembered how she’d described the threesome with Jason, how Chucky had played at amateur pornographer, posing them in various positions. I realized now as he put her through her paces that he was doing the same thing again, except with me as the audience. I didn’t know whether to be appalled or strangely appreciative.

  He spun her around and sat her back down on his cock facing me. He gripped her throat firmly with one hand while the other reached down to spread her labia, giving me another unobstructed angle as he hammered into her clean shaven pussy. Her breasts were jiggling violently, her face red with strain, but her moans were sultry sounds of pleasure.

  After a few minutes of that, he grabbed her breasts and squeezed them painfully. She winced and let out a high-pitched whine, but she didn’t resist as he used her tits as handles to bounce her up and down on his prick.

  He lifted her off him, forced her to her knees and shoved his wet cock into her mouth until his balls slapped her chin. He held her there, his hand wrapped tightly in her hair, as obscene gurgles bubbled out of her throat and spit ran down her cheeks.

  Then just as quickly, he stood her up, still yanking on her blond locks, and manhandled her until she was face down on the bed, facing me. He wedged a pillow under her waist, propping up her ass, and entered her pussy from behind. He fucked her brutally, seemingly trying to drive her through the mattress.

  Although Chucky was obviously focused on me and my reactions, Terri had been oddly aloof throughout. The only time we’d made eye contact was when she removed my blindfold. But now he seemed determined that she acknowledge me.

  “Look at him,” he ordered, wrenched her head up and forcing her face in my direction.

  Our eyes met. For a moment I thought I could see an entire catalogue of dark emotions fly across her face. Embarrassment, contempt, sadness, anger. Or maybe that was what I thought she should be feeling? Maybe it was what I was feeling?

  Then her eyes rolled back into her head, and when she looked back at me, her eyes seemed glazed. Her gaze was blank, lost in the moment. Fuck drunk.

  I couldn’t tell when she came—even if she did. And if she did, I had no idea if it was once or a dozen times. The sex was rough, physical, and aggressive. He made her squeal like I never had.

  But it came with a price. She was just a piece of meat to him, a convenient hole in which to masturbate. She was a submissive prop to allow him to play out his domination and exhibitionism fantasies. She could never mean so little to me. I could never treat her like he did, but the problem was that she obviously loved it, craved it. I wondered if she’d always been play-acting with me, denying her true desires. And I wondered if she’d ever really been happy with me—could really be happy with me—if I could never meet this need of hers.

  Still, the scene before me was undeniably erotic. I realized with a shock that I had slipped my hand from its restraint, despite my conviction not to, and that I was stroking myself rapidly in time with Chucky’s hard thrusts into my wife. He groaned suddenly and shuddered. The sight of him climaxing in my wife set me off. I came like a geyser, a load of jism arcing and landing in my lap.

  He continued to pump his cock into her slowly, making sure she received every last drop of his come. She was gasping, catching her breath, but glowing with satisfaction. She was obviously proud of her ability to take everything he could dish out, to satisfy such a demanding lover.

  He was surprisingly tender, caressing her shoulder. He leaned forward and she turned toward him. They kissed passionately, a perfectly appropriate coda to what had just happened, and yet still like a kick in the stomach to me.

  The kiss also triggered another realization. You took her away from me, he had said. And suddenly it made sense. And immediately I knew it had to end, and end now.

  Terri noticed my distress. She opened her mouth, but I cut her off. I didn’t need or want Chucky involved in what happened next.

  “Damn, that was hot,” I said in a cheery voice.

  “We’re just getting started,” Chucky replied.

  I forced a laugh as I slipped off my restraints. “Sorry Chuck, Terri and I are going to have some mango smoothies, and you’re going to have to leave.” I wanted to make sure she knew I was done.

  He looked at her for confirmation.

  “You need to leave,” she said simply.

  “Can I at least—”

  “No,” she replied firmly. “Just go.”

  It is hard to describe the relief I felt at that moment. She’d disentangled herself from him and stood beside me, naked, freshly fucked, still full of his semen, and yet unambiguously on my side.

  He shrugged and got up. “Okay, I’ll be in touch.”

  “Okay,” she replied non-committal.

  CHAPTER 12:

  CONFRONTATION

  “I’m sorry I kissed him,” she began after we’d showered separately.

  We were in the living room, both of us independently opting to dress in asexual sweats. I’d poured us a couple of scotches.

  I laughed. Objectively, kissing was the least of her sins.

  “You know what I mean,” she snapped defensively.

  “I do. At one point you told me kissing him was too intimate. Have you been kissing him this whole time?”

  She stiffened, but didn’t answer.

  “Should I take that as a yes?”

  “Bill, Jesus, yeah, I kissed him sometimes,” she said. “What do you expect? We were having sex, regularly, you know.” She paused. “You do know. I told you every fucking detail.”

  I put my hands up. “Whoa, Terri, this isn’t an inquisition.”

  “It feels like it.”

  I laughed. “I don’t know if you noticed. But I had a good time tonight.”

  “You did?” Her tone was so desperate for approval that I couldn’t help but melt.

  “Yes. But we’re done.... With Chucky, we’re done.”

  “Okay, but—”

  “Terri, what did he mean when he said I took you away from him?”

  “I don’t know what you’re—”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “He and I were together before you.”

  “Before?”

  “Yes.”

  I shook my head. She was a terrible liar.

  “So you didn’t see him after we met?”

  She hesitated. “I never cheated on you.”

  “I didn’t say you did. But that wasn’t what I asked.”

  “Bill, what do you want?”

  “Just the truth, I guess.”

  She just stared at me, so I continued.

  “We met at that stupid kick-ball game. I took you out
on to dinner the next weekend. Were you still sleeping with Chucky then?”

  Again she didn’t answer.

  I felt my heart sink. I needed to have this conversation, but I dreaded it. I knew now where we’d end up, knew it would devastate me to hear it, but I needed to know.

  “Terri, Baby, I need...”

  A tear ran down her cheek. “Bill, why does this matter? This was ten years ago. After the last couple of months, how can that matter?”

  “Because it changes everything.”

  “Everything? Everything, Bill? It changes that we love each other? That we have two beautiful children? A wonderful home? A great life?”

  “Terri, stop fucking deflecting. I’m not going anywhere. I love you. But I need to know what is going on. I’ve been thinking with my dick, ignoring my doubts. Fuck, even using my anxiety to feed my excitement. I’m not blaming you....”

  “It feels like you are.”

  “That’s your own guilt.”

  “Fuck you, Bill.”

  I shrugged. “It’s a simple question, Terri. Were you still fucking Chucky after we met?”

  “Fine, Bill, fine. Yes, the answer is yes.”

  “How long?”

  She opened her mouth to answer, but closed it without saying a word.

  Her silence spoke louder than words.

  “Terri, do you remember the Sarah McLachlan concert?”

  A look of panic crossed her face. “Bill... don’t.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes,” she replied tonelessly.

  “And after. After a night of intimacy, of kissing...you remember leaving me on the sidewalk?”

  She nodded.

  “You went to him after, didn’t you?”

  “Bill, that was so long ago.”

  “It was long ago, but now it isn’t.”

  “What?”

  I was getting angry now. Angry as the feeling of that night returned. Angry as I realized that Terri had been disingenuous with me.

  “Christ, Terri, just tell me what happened.”

  She sighed. Hesitated. I stayed silent. There was nothing more I could say. It was up to her now whether she wanted to come clean. Then finally she looked at me again. It was a hard, distant look, and it sent a shiver through me.

  “Okay, Bill, okay. You win. Yes, I’m a dirty whore. A filthy manipulative cunt. When I met you, I knew you were someone I could fall in love with. I knew I had to play you, reel you in. But I wasn’t willing to give up sex for it. I kept seeing Chucky up until I was sure I had you, sure you were mine if I wanted you.

  “And yes,” she continued, “I even saw him that night, after the McLachlan concert. Except it wasn’t a night. It was a weekend.”

  I groaned in shock, even though everything she was saying was just confirmation of what I already knew.

  She chuckled mordantly as if digging her own grave. “I told him we were through. That I’d met another man. And then we fucked.” Her tone was cold, as if she were trying to shock me, but by now I was feeling sorry for her more than angry. I stayed silent, letting her continue.

  “We fucked,” she repeated. “And then we fucked again and again. Friday turned into Saturday. He tried to talk me out of seeing you. He called you a wimp. Said you could never satisfy me. I told him it was over.”

  “But you didn’t leave.”

  She shook her head. “No, I stayed. And we fucked more. It was rougher, darker. He’d always been very physical, but those last few hours...”

  “Days,” I interjected.

  She nodded.

  “That last day was violent. He’d already come so many times. It wasn’t even about sex anymore. He slapped me. He gagged me. He choked me. And then he’d get hard enough to fuck me, and he would. Rough. Hard. I was so sore. But I never gave up. I was going to earn you no matter what.”

  I shook my head. There was more here than I could really address. She needed a qualified therapist. I could only imagine what had brought her to that point. Her friend zone/whore zone dilemma was rooted in something deeper. I was impressed at how functional she was given all of her emotional turmoil, and I took some credit for myself in giving her the kind of stability she needed. But we still needed closure on Chucky.

  “You misled me.”

  “No—”

  “Listen. Terri, listen. I’m not saying you lied. But you misled me about Chucky. You made him seem just like some guy, a random old boyfriend. Someone for whom you had no real feelings.”

  “I don’t.”

  “You do.” I put my hand up to stop her protest. “And that’s okay.”

  She gave me quizzical look.

  “I don’t quite get it,” I said. “He’s a cad and sees you just as a piece of meat. But whatever. I get that he represents something for you. Lost freedom. Raw sexuality. Something. He’s always been your safety valve, hasn’t he? When I bored you, or the kids made you crazy, you’d think of him, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes,” she replied sadly.

  I put my hand on her forearm. “It’s okay. I don’t have a Chucky. But I have Chuckies.”

  She gave me another quizzical look.

  “Oh jeez, Terri, I love you with all my being, but there is a not a day that I don’t think of escaping this. For me it is banging that hot intern. Or going to Vegas and having a threesome with a couple of expensive whores. Or, shit, just leaving town, starting anew, by myself, no responsibilities, no obligations. The difference is that my fantasies are just that: fantasies, while yours, well, came to life.”

  “I didn’t mean...”

  “No, I know you didn’t. That was me, wasn’t it? I admit it. The thought of you with him...fuck, it just set me off. You did your job too well, didn’t you? You convinced me so thoroughly that you weren’t a whore that the idea that you might be was overwhelming to me.”

  “Sounds like you’re blaming me again.”

  I laughed. “I think we need therapy,” I said. She frowned, and I quickly added, “But in a good way, baby. Not to solve problems, but to reach our potential.”

  She laughed uneasily. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I love you Terri. I always will. I want you to be happy...and fulfilled,” I added suggestively.

  “I don’t need anyone but you.”

  I smiled. “It’s okay. Maybe you do. But it can’t be Chucky. There is too much history there.”

  “Okay,” she replied unconvincingly.

  “Terri, don’t just say okay if you don’t mean it.”

  “I....”

  “Terri, be honest. How does it make you feel to think of never seeing Chucky again.”

  She started to reply immediately, but I held up my hand to slow her down. She paused and took a deep breath. “We know him. If it has to be anyone, he’s the right choice. He’s safe.”

  I shook my head. “No, he’s the most dangerous person imaginable. Look, I get it. There are things he does to you. Things he makes you feel that I can’t provide. I’ve heard it in your tone when you describe what he does to you. I’ve seen it. It’s fucking hot,” I admitted. “But if what he gives you is something only he can provide, then we have a problem.”

  “Why overthink this?” she said. “I love you. We both enjoy what he does with me, to me, isn’t that good enough?”

  “No. I can’t share you that way. I’m willing to explore your needs, to ensure that you receive those experiences, those feelings I can’t provide. And I’m not just being altruistic, though I am an amazingly generous man.” I grinned. She smiled back at me. “I love seeing you as you’ve been over the past few months. God, you have no idea how much it turns me on to know that my perfect, innocent, little wife is also a dirty slut.”

  She gave me a meaningful look.

  “And what if I can only do that with Chucky?”

  “I can’t live with that. If you need Chucky, then you need him, and you should go to him.”

  “I don’t want that.”

 
; “I don’t either.”

  EPILOGUE

  The next few months weren’t easy. We’d unleashed too many emotions to easily go back to normal, even if either of us were really committed to that goal, which we weren’t. I don’t want to overstate the issue. I mean, there was never a moment where I thought we’d split up, and I don’t think Terri ever considered it either.

  But that said, anyone who says this sort of thing is easy is lying. There were days when I resented Terri for her desires, and worse, for the way she’d brought Chucky into our lives. She’d misled me about their relationship, and that hurt.

  She too resented me sometimes for ending it with Chucky. She felt set up and would get angry at my resentment. But I knew it was more than that. She missed Chucky, missed what he did to her, for her, and she blamed me both for feeding her desires and then, as she saw it, snatching away something she valued. She felt like I’d teased her, manipulated her.

  It’s not like we fought constantly, or even often. We continued to be intimate with each other and attentive parents to the kids. Ninety-five percent of the time we were perfectly normal, but things were a little raw. We both knew we’d be fine, but we also knew it would take some work.

  I was still desperately attracted to the wanton woman I’d seen for the first time over the past several months. I didn’t want her to disappear. But I knew that I couldn’t say anything about it, couldn’t encourage it, not without Terri getting defensive. That was the strangest thing in a way. Even though she’d had the affair, at some level I think I’d wounded her more deeply than she me. Ending it with Chucky was a rebuke and a not-so-subtle statement of distrust.

  But I hated the thought that these resentments might force this other Terri back into the closet, encourage her to suppress that side of her so deeply that it became nothing more than a memory, increasingly distant, increasingly disconnected from the reality of our lives. I didn’t want to kill that creature, that passionate, vital, terrifying woman who shared a body with my wife.

  --------

  Even as we slowly worked through our emotions, my professional life took a dramatic turn. My company was bought out, and I was identified as a “key personnel asset.” They offered me a generous retention package, one that both boosted my salary dramatically and gave me the opportunity to broaden my horizons. In addition to running my teams in Chicago, I was now a designate global troubleshooter.