“I see,” replied Andrew absently. “Well your dinner’s in the microwave.”
A part of her died knowing she would get away with the horrible act of infidelity. “I'm going to take a shower,” she said quietly. “I'm feeling really dirty right now.”
Chapter 5
“How did it taste?”
Andrew's words snapped Angela out of her reverie. Her eye-lids fluttered wildly in surprise, his words strumming in her ears. She looked from the bowl of soup in front of her to the tureen. She then looked at Andrew and forced a smile.
“I-It was delicious. The best I've had in a while.”
Andrew smiled, pleased. He really was a good cook. This was yet another trait of Andrew's that Angela appreciated. But not enough to redeem his conservative sexual tastes.
They ate in silence. What an unconventionally boring way this was to spend their first anniversary. Earlier in the day, friends and relatives had passed by to congratulate them for remaining love-strong after one whole year. Successfully completing the first year had done more to impress their respective peers than it had done to endear themselves to each other.
Angela sighed inaudibly. Why had things turned out this way? Any other man in Antigua or the Caribbean would have had her fluids flowing like a faucet. Instead, her fate was intertwined with a man who apparently favored servicing the needy more than servicing the needs of his own dear wife. No wonder Angela had rendezvoused with Wallace so many times in the past few weeks! Was she really to be blamed? A woman, married or not, has needs; needs that her significant other should be fully aware of and be ready to fulfil. But by the same token, she was a married woman, and all married men expected a certain level of commitment and fidelity, cornerstones which Angela had violated. So was she justified in seeking to satisfy herself?
Angela alternated between a smile and a frown at the thought of Wallace. He had provided as many problems for her as he had solutions. Sometimes she would close her eyes and recollect the things Wallace had done to her body; things that Andrew dared not engage in lest he should offend the good Lord. But Angela loved these things. She loved being able to explore her sexuality, figuring out what was preferable, or off limits, or just felt good. With Wallace, nothing seemed off limits. Angela shrugged. It was a shameful realization.
“I'm heading over to Wood’s Mall,” Andrew announced. Angela hadn't realized how long he had been standing. there. “I'll be back soon.”
“Uh, okay.”
She watched him grab the car keys and head out the door. Laying back on the couch to relax she closed her eyes for a few minutes. Her peace, however, was interrupted when she heard a knock at the door. She slowly got up, went to the door, and began opening it.
“Did you forget some–” Angela stopped mid-sentence when she saw Wallace standing there smiling on her doorstep.
“Hi, Angel,” he purred, placing emphasis on her nickname. He began making his way inside, kissing Angela as he advanced. She was undoubtedly still in shock.
“Wallace! What are you doing here? You can't be here. It's our anniversary! He'll be back in an hour! You can't be here!”
Wallace affected a look of triumph, “An hour? Well, we'd better hurry up then, hadn’t we?”
As Wallace continued kissing her and removing her clothes, Angela felt powerless to resist. The thought of this forbidden love stirred her and made her receptive to Wallace's touch. Before she knew it, she was on all fours, performing doggy style with Wallace on the dining room floor.
“See, you're glad that I came, am I right?” He continued pumping her.
Angela didn't reply. She was too busy making her ass jiggle against his pelvis. For weeks, moments like these were all she could think about. This handsome man and his thick penis penetrating her deep and getting her juices to flow. She didn't want tame sex. She wanted this; a fuck that made her eyes roll back. She didn't want gentleness; she wanted a rough, unapologetic dick inside of her her. Hitting... drilling... pounding away. Panting... moaning... begging for more. It was the satisfaction she needed.
All of a sudden, in the midst of the session, she heard a car pulling up in the driveway.
“Shit! Andrew's back. Grab the clothes and get in the bathroom!” Wallace complied, pulling her into the bathroom with him. As they stowed their clothes in the basket, they could hear Andrew's voice.
“Hey, Angela. I forgot my wallet. Have you seen it?”
Angela struggled to answer. Wallace was rubbing his dick between her butt cheeks, with one hand squeezing her breast and the other hand fingering her pussy.
“I-I don't know where it is,” she called back, while trying to suppress her horny moan.
Wallace placed a hand on her lip and brought her over the edge of the tub into the shower, pulling the the curtain closed. He then turned on the water, and as Angela got wet, he began pounding her lightly from behind while cupping both her breasts.
She could hear Andrew in the other room moving around the furniture.
“Oh dear God,” Angela thought, “what am I doing?” She heard her own sensual sounds and replied to herself, “Getting fucked while your husband is in the next room, of course. Oh God, I'm a terrible wife. But this just feels so damn good.” The warm water coupled with Wallace inside of her drove her over the edge.
Soon Andrew could be heard approaching the bathroom. Wallace quickly fell on his knees and hid in front of Angela as her back faced the shower curtain. Her thick lower body sufficiently eclipsed Wallace.
The door handle turned and Andrew stuck his head in. “I found it.”
“G-Great,” Angela replied, thankful that he couldn't see through the blurry, opaque shower curtain.
“Honey, you won't believe who I ran into...”
As Andrew continued speaking, Wallace did the unthinkable. Already on his knees, he began to work his tongue along the walls of Angela's vagina licking and sucking animatedly.
“Oh my God!” Angela thought, “Is this man trying to get me killed! Is he really going to make me cum at a time like this?! I'm going to be struck by lightning, I just know it.”
But no lightning came, only the sound of Andrew's voice droning on in monologue. Angela held Wallace's head as she felt her body burst.
“Honey, are you okay?” Andrew asked, noting a shift in her breathing.
“Y-yeah. I-I’m fine. Are you still heading to Wood’s?”
“Oh right. I found my wallet so I'll hurry over there and then tell you everything when I come back.” With that he left, leaving Angela and Wallace still in the shower, bodies drenched.
Wallace got off his knees and kissed Angela, letting her savor the taste of her own juices on his tongue. He clutched her body next to his, “So do you want me to leave?” Angela's body was shaking. She didn't know how to reply; hence, she lowered her head. “Well, do you?” he asked again.
Angela wiped a lone tear from her eye, “No... don't go. Please stay.”
Wallace smiled. “Good,” he purred. “Now bend over.”
Chapter 6
Now, how was she going to explain this? Angela's eyes darted all over the place, everywhere except into Denise's eyes. Her friendly neighbor had seen Wallace leaving the house the day of the anniversary. Now, Angela was left to quell the imagination of her prurient neighbor.
Wallace. That man would be the death of her. And yet, since she had met him, Angela's mood and outlook on life had been greatly improved. If only it weren’t for her gnawing guilt. And having Denise constantly, playfully but curiously, asking didn't help alleviate her conscience.
In the end, Angela maintained her story that Wallace had been just another friend from work who had come to congratulate her. When the questions died down, Angela made Wallace promise to never show up unannounced at her house again. Fortunately, he agreed, but not without a caveat. In order to facilitate the prohibition on her home, Angela would have to join Wallace on an expedition during Antigua Sailing Week.
At first, Angela scoffed at
the idea of seeing Wallace in public. But then she remembered that Andrew would be off the island during that time at the end of April. And when Wallace promised to take her on a yacht during Sailing Week, Angela could not refuse the premiere event.
On April 22 Andrew packed his suitcase, kissed Angela goodbye, then made his way to his flight to Puerto Rico for his commission. Luckily, Sailing Week started soon thereafter.
On the 24th Angela met up with Wallace at Nelson's Dockyard in St. John's, and the two walked along the coast amid locals and visitors alike, all making an appearance at this world-renowned event. As they strode along, Wallace could not keep his hands off Angela. He seemed obsessed with her soft plumpness. He somehow always managed to discreetly cop a feel. Angela would have been annoyed if she wasn't so amused. It was nice to have a man who appreciated her assets.
Having brought his camera, Wallace took photos of Angela as well as of the event. It turned out he had been asked to cover it for the magazine he worked for; so he tried to manage his time accordingly.
As they ate together, Wallace capriciously placed his hand on top of Angela's and looked her in the eye.
What?” she asked curiously, “Is there something on my face.”
“No, only a beautiful expression.” He watched her blush. “But I wanted to ask you something.”
“Okay, but I don't get why you're so serious. Ask.”
“Fine. I was just wondering; do you love your husband?”
Angela nearly spat out her rum drink. Where did that come from? “Wallace, of course I love him. He might be missing a few gears but he's still my husband.”
If Wallace had known beforehand where this question would lead, he would not have asked. “I see. It's just that sometimes I wonder how things would be if you were fully my woman...”
Angela thought on these words as they walked to the yacht. Sex with Wallace was amazing. But she realized sex wasn't what brought her and Andrew closer. They had been together for many other reasons, one being they really did care for each other and had each other's backs. She admired and respected him. Those feelings were mutual, she realized. Angela wanted to reflect more on this. But for today she was caught up in the excitement of riding on the yacht, which a friend had lent Wallace.
There they were. The two of them, out at sea, surrounded by dozens of sailboats, the sea breeze caressing their faces. It was only natural that they fell victim to the mood.
Wallace took Angela below deck. He looked at her as she let her hair fall from the bundle it was in. They had grown accustomed to each other. They had a thing where before they had sex she would stand completely nude and Wallace would take a moment to drink in her image.
But on this occasion they simply slipped into each other's arms and let their bodies mingle. Sex on a yacht. Angela was quite enamored with this idea. It somehow compelled her to please Wallace the best she could. She wrapped her mouth around his dick, rolling and lapping with her tongue. Gripping her head, he began thrusting gently in and out of her mouth as they held each other’s thighs. Then it was his turn. He began by kissing her neck, her breasts, her stomach, down, down down. Licking the surrounding area of her pussy, he nipped the light outer labia, lapping its inner folds. At last his tongue made contact with her dripping wet pussy. Each flick of his skilled tongue made her writhe. After luxuriating in intense pleasure for a while, she climbed on top of him and rode him, holding his head between her breasts and letting him motor boat her. He soon traced her outline with his fingers as he nibbled on her earlobe, all the while forcing his cock in and out of her. Their bodies ebbed and flowed like the waves that surrounded them. They reveled in the bliss of shared ecstasy.
Soon Wallace sat up and had Angela sit in his lap, bouncing wildly as his dick went up into her. She pursed her lips together and hyperventilated as their bodies moved at a maddening pace. Sweat ran down her neck and midriff. Wallace held onto her like a castaway at sea, trying to make sure his every entry was enough to made her quiver. She loved every inch of him. Finally, he blew his hot load inside her and collapsed on the bed, breathless.
Five minutes later, Wallace lay peacefully on the bed watching Angela. She had his dick in her mouth and was toying with his balls. He looked at her and smiled.
“Angel,” he said unflinchingly, “I want you. Leave your husband.”
Angela laughed, not accepting that he was serious, and continued mouthing his penis.
“I mean it, Angel. You say you love him but you don't.” His voice was firm.
“I told you: Andrew's my husband and I won't leave him. I love him.” She then continued downing his penis.
“Oh, really?” he snapped, “Then why are you here sucking my dick? Face it, you don't love him! He doesn't know about your slutty ways.”
Angela lifted her head; her mouth made a popping sound. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was the first time Wallace had insulted her – the first time he had referred to her as a slut.
Her eyes tingled, “Wallace, that's mean.”
“Well not as mean as fucking another man under the nose of your dear husband. Don't you see, your pussy is reserved for me! You didn't even have the decency to explain your frustrations to your own husband. No. You just threw him under the bus to get a taste of yours truly.”
Wallace thought he was building an argument, when in reality he was wreaking havoc with Angela's emotions. She hid her tears. Her next tear-filled words surprised Wallace:
“I think we should stop seeing each other...”
“What?” he blurted out. “What did you just say?”
Angela balled up her fists and dug deep for the strength to make herself clear, “I said this is over!”
Chapter 6
“Whoa! Someone's sure excited to see me.” Andrew looked down at Angela who had wrapped her arms around him in a warm affectionate hug, her head snuggled into his chest.
“But of course,” Angela replied in a bubbly voice. “I've missed you like crazy. You're definitely going to have to make it up me now that you're back. Come, I made dinner.”
Andrew was a little awestruck by his wife's super hospitable temperament, even more so when he reached the dinner table and discovered an assortment of all his favorite foods. Stewed lamb, rice, macaroni pie, yam, grilled corn and salad graced the table, along with fresh tamarind juice. As Angela kissed him on the cheek and pulled up his chair, Andrew was tempted to ask, “Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?” He settled, however, for something else:
“I think I need to travel more often.” He smiled broadly up at her.
“Not a chance,” retorted Angela playfully. “Now tell me about your trip. Did everything go well while you were in Puerto Rico?”
Oddly surprised by the question and her sudden interest, Andrew launched into the details of his Puerto Rican experience. As he spoke, his shoulders grew more and more relaxed.
Angela listened with her full attention, asking follow up questions to almost every tidbit. The two were very much engaged; very much the way Angela wanted things to be between them from now on. She had decided days ago that she would no longer sabotage her own marriage.
The last few days had been torture for her. She’d spent days crying until she’d felt all dried out. She had stared at her wedding photo, and had broken down completely from the sheer guilt of her betrayal. Since she left Wallace and the yacht, the tears flowed profusely day and night. At one point she had vomited; so sick was she from all of it.
Over the course of the next few weeks, Andrew saw a new side of Angela, a side more appeasing and willing to facilitate him in whatever way she could. Furthermore, Angela finally became more vocal about her feelings. She didn't flat out express her zesty, explicit desires but she did begin making Andrew aware of subtle ways in which he could facilitate her happiness.
Angela took her split with Wallace to heart. She could not allow herself to be vulnerable enough to stray or betray her husband ever again. But she did take aw
ay a valuable lesson. And that was the realization that marriages are saved by active dialogue. Keeping this in mind, she talked with Andrew about anything that came up, and sure enough after a little practice, the quality of their interaction improved. Sure, they still weren't having the wet, wild, sticky sex she wanted, but they were having normal sex more often now. She figured that with the lifetime they had ahead of them, she had plenty of time to bring the nature of her sexual appetite to the forefront. For now, she was rediscovering what it meant to be married and was, for the most part, happy.
Even her neighbor, Denise, noticed the change in Angela's spirits. Denise had noticed how enamored Angela now was of her husband, and professed, quite frankly, to be jealous of their marital delight. In truth, Angela had fallen in love with Andrew all over again. All at once, she was being reminded of why she had said yes to him in the first place. She loved how Andrew looked at her in a way that he didn't look at other women. He consulted with her on everything and valued her opinion. On occasion, he spontaneously brought her flowers or gifts. She was married to a good man.
Annabelle's Angst: NEW ADULT CONTEMPORARY SUSPENSE ROMANCE Page 30
