Blank Space

by Francis Gideon

  Am I jealous? The question played over and over in his head. He didn't want to think he'd be so petty. Especially because the interaction with Dave Adrian had described didn't sound that sexy at all. While Adrian had described in a flurry of words Dave with curly-blonde hair and an interest in Killers, he had never really described the actual act. Just said it ended in a blowjob with a condom, since that was the rule. They had been so focused on discussing rules that Curtis almost forgot about the fun bits. And because of that, it had been one of the rare times Adrian talking about any kind of sex that didn't make Curtis half-hard. Why would someone want to wait at a bar for someone to hit on them, anyway? And then have awkward sex with someone they didn't know only to never call them again? All while wearing a wedding ring? There were too many clashing signs and symbols. It was obviously not for him. No way, never.

  And yet, you keep picturing it. You keep imagining Adrian half-naked, and a man with curly blonde hair going down on him as his Killers' T-shirt gets covered in come.

  After some aimless chatter from the lead singer, The Tourists switched into their cover of 'Street Spirit'—they had not opened with it, thankfully—and Curtis thought of Adrian's words again. This song was about staring a devil in the face and losing. It was about making a deal that was always going to go bad. Curtis wanted it all to have so much more meaning, like concerts did when he was younger, but he couldn't get into the song. The singer was a dead ringer for Thom York; pale skin, blue eyes, sickly movements on the stage, but his voice wasn't quite right. The guitarists kept flubbing the iconic sound of this particular song, and soon, Curtis had to turn away.

  "I know, I know," Adrian said, leaning close. "I thought this would be more nostalgic than... disappointing."

  Curtis shrugged. "They aren't all bad. Their 'Paranoid Android' was pretty good."

  "And they haven't done 'Creep' yet. That's pretty much the perfect pop song, and it's fairly easy to nail. Maybe I shouldn't write them off so quickly."

  "Yeah, I forgot about 'Creep'—maybe I shouldn't, either."

  They smiled knowingly at one another, before turning back to the stage to watch. As small as it was, the thought of The Tourists getting 'Creep' right made him happy; it gave him something to look forward to as the band played into another Radiohead hit, and paused to address the crowd and the bartender.

  Halfway through their next song, Curtis felt Adrian's hand on his elbow. Just a quick nudge, but it was enough to send sparks through him.

  "Didn't you tell me you had a story, too?"

  It took Curtis a moment to remember the strap-on, the red bag it was in, and how he still hadn't told Darcy about it yet.

  "Yeah. I do. Nothing like yours, though."

  "Don't compare! That only leads to unhappiness." Adrian laughed a little, glancing back toward the cover band. "So what is it? Do we need to head into the bathroom to get a bit of quiet for the story?"

  "Nah," Curtis said, quivering at the thought. He leaned closer to Adrian so he could whisper. "It's nothing, really. I just bought a strap-on... So D could fuck me."

  "Nice! Have you done it yet?"

  "No. We've been busy. I've been just swamped at work with a new project proposal..." He trailed off and talked for a while, realizing just how unsexy all of it was halfway through. "Sorry. I realize my project presentations aren't exactly a riveting story."

  "No, it's okay. Just..." Adrian bit his lip—and Curtis's stomach twisted into knots. Adrian kept his eyes forward on the band, but gave Curtis all his attention. "Just...tell me about it when you do?"

  "Yeah. Of course."

  Before either one of them could say anything else, The Tourists began to play the beginning guitar intro of 'Creep.' Everyone went quiet as the band played on.

  Adrian's right, Curtis thought. This isn't half bad at all.

  Chapter Ten

  "So... I have a surprise for you. And a surprise for me."

  Curtis sat down on the couch with Darcy as soon as the kids had gone to bed on Friday night. She had brought her laptop into the living room, placing it precariously on her lap as she waded through emails on her party-planning account. If Curtis didn't act fast, she would soon fall into her Google Calendar and start planning the upcoming spring season. Curtis had completely forgotten Easter was this weekend; while Darcy had been gone all day with her own errands, he had entertained the kids indoors as it poured rain. Now that they were finally alone, it occurred to Curtis they would have yet another day on Monday for time together. This was as good as any time to finally tell Darcy about what he had purchased for them weeks ago now. After a quick trip to the car, he now held the gift bag in his hands.

  Darcy eyed the package carefully. "My birthday's passed. Is this something you hid really well and forgot about until now?"

  Curtis laughed. He nudged the red bag forward on the couch cushion between them. "Open it and see."

  As soon as Darcy's fingers touched the handle, he felt fear seize him again. When she put down her laptop to really study what was inside, he knew things were about to get serious.

  "You don't have to do it. I just thought. You know when you had that party? I got this. And I figured it would be fun to try. I want you to use it on me, you know? But you don't have to do it."

  Darcy leaned forward and grabbed Curtis's hands so they would stop shaking. "Shhh. You're so nervous when you talk about this stuff, you know that, right?"

  "I am?" Curtis's mouth was slightly agape. He was an open-minded person, but the past two months had really made him aware of how blunted his speech and limits about sex really were. It wasn't true fear or nervousness, though—he knew that deep down. Sex didn't scare him. It was what people thought about sex and his desire that truly scared him. That, more than anything, was made up of shame.

  He looked into Darcy deep brown eyes. She'd cut her hair recently, so now her bangs didn't quite go over her ears, but kept falling in front of her face. She often scoffed and complained whenever it happened, but Curtis loved her hair like this. Shorter bangs meant he got to curl his fingers through her hair and keep it out of her face. He did this now, as she leaned close and kissed him.

  "Just let me really look in the bag, okay?" she whispered in his ear. "All I saw was plastic before. Don't say a single thing until I do."

  Curtis opened his mouth to reply, but soon shut it. Darcy grinned and then went to explore again. He could tell she recognized the red gift bag from her party, but would she remember selling Camille the same strap-on? Her face was calm, placid. She seemed to give away nothing at all, even as she laid the toy down on her lap. She undid the belt area and felt the straps around it. Her fingers hovered over the edge of the blue dildo attached. Then—just as her hand slid around it—did she smile.

  "Almost as big as you," she teased.

  Curtis laughed—loud enough that he pushed a hand over his mouth and worried he'd woken up the kids. Darcy shifted closer to him on the couch, leaving the strap-on between them.

  "Is this okay?" Curtis asked. "And I haven't spoken too soon, because you just did."

  "Indeed. I did." She gripped the toy again, considering its girth, and glanced down at herself. "So I wear this...and fuck you?"

  Curtis nodded. "I've been. Just wondering a lot recently. You use your fingers, you know?"

  "Male g-spot. Camille reminds me all the time. She thinks it's the best argument for saying why God made the gays. If he didn't want anyone up there, why would he put a pleasure centre there? Just doesn't make sense!"

  Curtis laughed again. Darcy didn't seem to realize that Camille had been the one to help him out, and he wasn't about to remind her. He curled another strand of hair around her ear instead. "So it's okay with you?"

  "Oh yeah." Darcy beamed up at him. "Gonna take me a while to get use it. But hey, what else was I going to do with my Friday night?"

  She shifted on the couch again to grab her laptop and close it. She also muted the TV and dimmed some of the lights. Curtis stayed where he
was, his eyes open and attentive, watching her.

  "Right now?"

  "Yeah. Why not?" Darcy leaned down to kiss him. She pressed her tongue against his lips, begging to be let inside. Curtis opened up, felt her tongue against his teeth, and shivered deep through his body. He was going to let more than just her tongue inside tonight. Now that she had said yes, his entire body reacted. His belly flipped, his cock twitched, and his ass puckered. Oh God. Oh, God. I'm going to be fucked. By my wife. Oh...Curtis's head trailed on with obscenities, before Darcy's hands came down on his sides, towards his pants, and she cupped him through the fabric.

  "Come on," she whispered, grabbing the toy again. "I want to see what this feels like."

  *~*~*

  Curtis got on his knees first. Darcy lay down on the bed, her knees bent at the edge and feet planted on the floor. Her sweater was off, a thin tank top and her bra remaining. She had always had large breasts, but in the past seven years since having children, they seemed to have grown in size. Her entire body changed after the kids: Her hips had gotten wider, her thighs thicker, and her belly was shaped differently than before, covered in small stretch marks. She had always been a round woman, heavy with curves, and a sway to her hips—but it was like now Darcy resembled all the Goddesses men painted during the renaissance. Curtis loved it, and when Darcy lamented her size, he made sure she had nothing to be ashamed about. Now, as she was about to do him something he never thought he'd be brave enough to ask, he wanted to make sure she felt like a goddess again.

  He swung her legs on either side of his shoulders as he undid her pants and pressed kisses to the skin as he revealed it. When he stood up again, he continued pressed kisses against her stomach, her hips, and cleavage. The strap-on lay beside them, ready to go, but not quite the time yet. Darcy helped Curtis tug off her shirt and unclasp her bra. He spent a long time sucking at her nipples, before she moaned and begged him to go lower with each breath.

  Curtis slid a hand between her legs, rubbing her through her underwear. She was already wet, soaking through the thin barrier and Curtis had to swallow his own desire. He rocked his finger between her folds, before she finally shimmied her hips and took her underwear off. Darcy, now completely naked, eyed Curtis's tight jeans suspiciously, but didn't mention this discrepancy as he placed his tongue on her clit.

  "Fuck," she hissed. She held onto his shoulders and tugged at his short hair as he moved from side to side. He was delaying his own fucking. He wanted to get good and hard, feel good and ready, before Darcy stepped up and took over. He was used to being the aggressor in bed; it was going to be hard for him to relinquish some small fraction of control.

  As he slipped a few fingers into Darcy, Curtis tried to stay focused on her—but also prepare himself. He thought of everything Adrian had told him. Leaning into it, pushing back, and feeling ready for the pain. Curtis had been relieved when he saw the size of the dildo Camille had opted for; some of the leftover toys from the fantasy party were just obscene. But this one was reasonable for a beginner like him, totally doable. He licked and sucked at Darcy, trying to steady his mind, before Darcy's breathing hitched.

  "Fuckkk," she moaned. He pressed harder, sucked once more, before he pulled away. He slid his free thumb against her clit as his fingers continued to move in and out. She bucked under the touch, before coming in quick spasmodic gestures. After another row of expletives, she flopped down on the bed, her bangs fluttering as she did. Curtis kissed her thighs, up towards her belly and tits again, before he kissed her mouth.

  "Oh, fuck," she murmured, sucking on his lip—and her taste on his lip. "Fuck."

  "Was that good?"

  "Uh-huh." She smiled, running her hands over his back and down to his jeans. "You know it."

  He tried to kiss her again, and while she breathed happily into him, she also pulled away too soon with a knowing gesture. "You ready for me now?"

  "Uh-huh."

  She ran her hands over his ass before slipping them around to undo the button on his pants. He shimmied off his clothing as their bodies moved together, rearranging slightly until Curtis laid on the bed, propped on his elbows. Darcy moved the toy aside, and lowered her mouth over his cock.

  "Fuck, D—" Curtis said. He slid a hand on the back of her neck, rubbing encouragingly. She hummed against him, going down as far as she could, before bobbing back. Before long, he slid his hands between her thighs—just to feel how wet she still was. She trembled around his fingers, then took her mouth away from him.

  "Hey. I'm not done with you."

  "No?" he said, voice husky.

  "No. Give me some lube, Curt. I want to fuck you."

  Curtis's stomach dropped again. He knew his mouth was agape and that she could feel him twitch in her hands. She seemed to like it, even. Her eyebrows raised, challenging Curtis again silently until he shifted to the drawer on his side of the bed and tossed her some KY he had bought earlier in the week.

  "Thank you. How do you want to sit?"

  "On my knees, I think."

  Darcy nodded. As he moved into position, she got the strap on into place. Curtis caught her running her hands up and down the cock playfully, jacking it as if it were her real erection. She grinned even wider as she made eye contact with him, then moved behind him.

  "All right," she whispered, kissing along his tailbone. "I'm going to finger you first."

  "Uh-huh."

  Her fingers he was used to, so they went in easily. She had never touched him like this on all fours before, and Curtis worried it would be slightly awkward. But as soon as she hit his prostate, it was fine. Good.

  "Ohh," he moaned, and she seemed delighted.

  "I got it?"

  "Yeah, you got it."

  Darcy kissed his lower back longer this time. He could feel her tongue tracing over the lines of his shipwreck tattoo he often forgot he had. The shipwreck—complete with hollowed out hull and a beach covered with sand—was easy to forget about since he never really saw it. There were some eagles and other animals on his arms, a sun from an old kid's book his mother had given him on a bicep, and a bunch of other flash pieces on his knees. He loved each and every one of them, but even the visible pieces he often forgot were there—until someone like D traced the outlines, and made them part of her desire.

  "How's it feel?" she asked.

  "Hmm?" Curtis felt wider, stretched out. But no pain, not really. "Good."

  "And..." She pulled back and seemed to add another finger. "Now?"

  Curtis swallowed. He felt the slight burn and the tug. She moved her fingers back and forth, then, after he breathed out a quick cry, slammed them harder into him.

  "God. Okay. That's good. So good, D."

  Darcy kissed his shipwreck in reply, and withdrew her fingers. Curtis felt emptier than normal, but tension laced up his spine at the click of the lube. Darcy shifted on the bed. Closer, closer.

  "Tell me if it hurts, or if you want to go slower."

  "Uh-huh," Curtis said. He arched his back and lowered his arms, so he could feel his nipples graze their bed sheet and his ass move closer to her. He felt the tip of the dildo, thankfully already warmed by her hand.

  "Going in," she said as she pushed in. Deeper, then deeper. Curtis felt the slow pop as the head pushed inside. He let out a low groan.

  "Okay?"

  "Okay." He folded his arms in front of him and pillowed his head. He struggled to fight the impulse to clench up, and instead remembered Adrian. You have to breathe. Then you have to push. Relax. In the moment after Curtis took in a breath, Darcy slid deeper into him. He let out a hollow gasp that didn't seem to make a noise. It was like an ellipses falling from his mouth, a blank space in the bed. He opened himself more and she slid in. He could feel how deep she was. Deep inside him, in his gut, in the pit of his balls. Desire bloomed and spread out through his fingers like pins and needles. She moved deeper and deeper, and he allowed her in.

  Curtis let out another low, long groan. As Darcy brushed ag
ainst his prostate, he hissed.

  "Oh, fuck."

  "Okay?"

  "Yes, oh God. Keep going. Right there."

  Darcy pulled out a little and slid back in. Again, again, she struck him deep inside. "Fuck, Darcy. Oh, my God. Fuck."

  She laughed; a light hearted but sudden burst. Curtis smiled. He pressed his elbows into the pillows, and glanced over his shoulders. Her bangs were all in her face, her cheeks stained pink, her lips slightly strained. She slid in and out of him slowly, her hips working hard to control each thrust. Her hands were on his waist, and he reached down one of his to touch hers. She caught his eyes and smiled.

  "Good?"

  "My God." He looked at her with as serious as a face as he could muster. "Don't stop. When I come. Don't stop."

  "Oh?"

  "Yeah. Keep fucking me. Even if I came."

  "For how long?"

  "Until you get off again."

  "Will do, will do." She slammed into him, still keeping eye contact, and Curtis nearly melted into the bed. It hurt. It was awkward. But there were flares of pleasure between the pain. The rawness, the submission. Curtis got what Adrian was saying. He understood why Adrian liked this.

  But if Simone had fucked him like this too, why does Adrian still need hook ups? Curtis tried to push the thought away, especially as Darcy's lips met his. She slid in deeper as they kissed over his shoulder and Curtis nearly stopped breathing. When she pulled back, she slammed into him right away and fucked him harder. The sudden tone shift was good; Curtis moaned and told her to keep going. He leaned back down on the bed so he could grab his cock between his legs and touch himself. He wanted what Adrian had described—an all over body g-spot orgasm after coming. He wanted to come into his hand and have Darcy continue to fuck him for a little while longer. He wanted this feeling of submission and power to last just a little bit more. I'm not done yet, Curtis thought between moans. I'm not even close to done.