by Ed Bemand
Shared Secret
Title Page
Prologue
Chapter 1 - What Alex wanted
Chapter 2 - How Alex got it
Chapter 3 - Alex’s guilty secret
Chapter 4 - Alex’s mind boggles
Chapter 5 - How Alex and Maria met
Chapter 6 - What Maria liked
Chapter 7 - How Maria got it
Chapter 8 - Camilla enjoys herself
Chapter 9 - Camilla knows best
Chapter 10 - How they both cheated
Chapter 11 - Alex finds out
Epilogue
About the author
Shared Secret
Or
When Alex and Maria wanted the same thing but couldn’t give it to each other
By
Ed Bemand
Smashwords Edition
Copyright Ed Bemand 2015.
All rights reserved.
www.EdBemand.co.uk
Cover design by Adrijus from RockingBookCovers.com
This story should be considered a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Warning, this story contains graphic sexual content and is intended for adults only. All characters depicted in sexual acts are eighteen years of age or older.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1 - What Alex wanted
Chapter 2 - How Alex got it
Chapter 3 - Alex’s guilty secret
Chapter 4 - Alex’s mind boggles
Chapter 5 - How Alex and Maria met
Chapter 6 - What Maria liked
Chapter 7 - How Maria got it
Chapter 8 - Camilla enjoys herself
Chapter 9 - Camilla knows best
Chapter 10 - How they both cheated
Chapter 11 - Alex finds out
Epilogue
About the author
Prologue
This is a story about love. It’s also about passion, which isn’t the same thing but has a little in common with it.
Mostly it’s about secrets, the big, dark ones that can consume a soul and the little ones we keep because our life is simpler that way. This is a story about two people who think they know each other, and the secrets they keep from each other. People may think that they know each other well, but still see the same things very differently.
Really, it’s a story about lies. Without lies, there could be no secrets because all lies are secrets in their not-telling. Without secrets there could be no mystery, no surprise, no wonderment, and the world would be a poorer place.
People with manners understand that lies are a necessary part of civilised life. Honesty is presented as a virtue, but we’ve all had the unpleasant experience of meeting individuals that are too truthful, justifying rudeness by not being false, boasting that people either love them or hate them. Missing the point that generally, people just dislike them but are too polite to tell them the truth.
Few people will publicly recommend deceit. To be a good liar, you must appear honest. Conceal the reaction in your eyes when you realise you know something that the person talking to you doesn’t. Don’t squander the moment rashly, destroying precious illusion. Every moment that passes while you don’t creates an unknowing, giving falsehood the weight of truth.
This is also a story about sex. Some of it mundane, some rather kinky. Those nervous and childish should leave, but the strong, the brave and the wondrous have nothing to fear.
Chapter 1 - What Alex wanted
Alex and Maria had been married for about two years. Alex claimed that he preferred just being with the woman that he loved and that his wild days of impulsively chasing skirts were behind him. He meant it too, he really did prefer being with her. Not that he’d ever been very successful when he had been trying to chase women. He’d always felt a bit awkward about sex. Most of his early experiences were heavily reliant on alcohol to overcome his embarrassment. He didn’t have sex sober until he was in his twenties.
Though Alex and Maria had never really talked about sex, it didn’t stop them from having it. When they wanted to do it things just seemed to happen organically. He didn’t have to tell her to do things. Communication while they were fucking was through movement and eye contact. The noises that she made during climax were wordless and he didn’t tend to make much noise anyway.
They had found a variety of sexual positions that worked well for each of them in different ways. Missionary was the simplest for him to be able to cum in, which could be a good or a bad thing, depending on the moment. Doggy was good for pounding her but some of the angles he thrust at could be painful for her if he wasn’t careful. Careful defeated the point of pounding. From time to time she liked to be on top of him. Looking up at the ceiling wasn’t his favoured position but she liked it because it gave her the ability to guide the rhythm. She could grind her pussy against him, getting the stimulus she needed. It was the only time that he ever felt like she could be too rough, when the bones of her pelvis dug into his flesh and made him wince. The rest of the time her touch was more tentative and cautious.
Once she gave him a pair of handcuffs as a joke present. He couldn’t figure out which one of them she was suggesting should end up wearing them and his inability to tell and unwillingness to ask meant that they lay unused in a drawer.
When Maria became pregnant, she was very happy. They were married and in love, they owned a house, of course they wanted to have a child together. Alex’s job was dull but well enough paid that it made sense to both of them that she should stay home to focus on looking after their soon-to-appear child.
Her miscarriage was a difficult setback.
Even if Alex hadn’t exactly wanted kids, he hadn’t not wanted them and was happy enough to go along with it. Maria seemed so happy when she found out she was pregnant. He missed that. Things never really seemed to happen between them after that. In theory at least, they both wanted to keep trying to have a child together but in practise they hadn’t had sex in months.
How long was sympathy supposed to continue for? At what point did it go beyond feeling legitimately sad and become something that she should be shaken out of? Free from immediate financial pressures, Alex didn’t mind that Maria didn’t want to go back to work, but did that mean that she would just spend the rest of her life sat at home? He got used to getting in from work and finding her sprawled on the sofa, eyes glazed over from staring at the TV, usually not even properly dressed.
The room that they had been calling the nursery had been relabelled as the office and now it had a desk in it where it was supposed to have a cot. Alex was just glad he hadn’t let her talk him into painting the walls in some hideous colour. At least this way he had a little privacy for what was increasingly his only sexual outlet.
When his mother wanted to embarrass Alex in front of people, she would tell them that he had held onto his cock with one little fist for most of his waking hours for the first couple of years of his life. It wasn’t something he could remember so he didn’t think it fair that he could be held accountable for his conduct at that time in his life. Regardless, as the years went on he continued to spend a fair amount of time gripping his own cock.
Porn had been a presence in his masturbatory life for as long as he could remember. In his early teens he scavenged a small collection of photos of naked women. At that stage he had little genuine pornography and relied on lucky finds in magazines and catalogues. Later he was able to scour the vast array of online pornography and see all manner of startling things that might never have occurred to him otherwise.
Since being with Maria he had certainly wanked less t
han at his adolescent peak, but it was unlikely that more than a month in their marriage had not found him chance to pleasure himself. It wasn’t something that they had ever talked about and he preferred it that way. What gave him pleasure in private would have been awkward to be confronted with.
Recently the tone of the pornography that he was watching had started to take a very singular direction. Where before his main interest had always been in seeing women’s bodies as much as possible, now he found himself drawn to scenes involving women doing things to men. He had never before felt drawn to images involving men and had generally found them off-putting. He wanted to look at women doing things and had spent a while exclusively watching lesbian porn to make sure that he never had to look at cocks. After all, he had no interest in men, so why would he want to spoil his fun by having to see them getting in the way when he was trying to look at naked girls?
The stuff he was watching now wasn’t like that though, when men fucked women and you could see their swollen cocks thrusting in and out of pussies and their clumsy hands squeezing breasts.
He was watching something different. The shot was closely framed, locked-off on a close-up of a man’s crotch. An arm covered to above the elbow in black PVC reached out to stroke the cock. It wasn’t a remarkable cock, if anything it was smaller than Alex’s and it looked like the man had a gut. The cock was framed in leather. Straps wrapped around it. Swollen purple flesh showing around the side of the straps showing how harshly they bit. The strokes were rough, abusive even. The man cried out but kept begging for more. He had to keep the volume down on the video, painfully aware that Maria was supposedly asleep in the next room. He gripped his own cock and stroked it hard but nowhere near as hard as the gloved hand was stroking the bound man.
Despite how much of his screen it occupied, it wasn’t the cock that Alex was interested in. It was what she was doing to it. She. How could he even be sure? Black PVC gloves didn’t make it possible for him to tell really. It could have been anyone. When he was done and thinking about it, maybe that would bother him, but while he was horny and in the moment he didn’t care. In his mind, the hand was a she, and what she was doing to the cock was making him want to burst.
Part of him wished she could do it to his cock. Most of him was scared. How much would it hurt to have those leather straps biting into the flesh of his balls and cock? Could it even be fun if it hurt that much? If the hardness on the screen was a fair judge, this man was enjoying it. Surely you couldn’t fake that.
There was a careless aggression to the way that she pumped it, forcing it back and forth, slamming it in awkward directions. It was like it didn’t matter to her what she did. Pain or pleasure were irrelevant. She knew that she could make it cum and she was going to get there however she wanted.
Had the man known what he was getting himself into when he had submitted to be so tightly bound and restrained? Was this like the way that he’d heard all women fantasised about rape in some way? Surely it couldn’t be rape when his cock was so swollen and had drops of pre-cum gathering on its glistening head? Was it still rape when he was turned on?
He didn’t know. He didn’t care. His world was as restricted as the view of the camera. It was just him and her. The cock and the hand so vigorously pumping it, his own hands mimicking the gestures in their own pale way. He couldn’t do what she was doing to himself, it just wasn’t possible. The way that she dug her nails into his balls and twisted them. No man could do that to himself. Why would they even want to? And yet... somehow, when he saw it, he still wished that it was his balls that were being tortured, that the gloved hand was causing him that pain, rather than the man on the screen.
When he had cum he felt sick and dizzy. It was like he’d committed an infidelity even though he had touched no-one but himself. He felt bad about what he had done, but he also knew that within a few days he would find himself doing it all over again.
He was glad that Maria didn’t know the things that he kept making himself cum over. He couldn’t imagine cheating on her. He had always told himself he wasn’t like the guys he knew that were happy to carry on with other women behind their wives’ backs, making their marriage a complicated deception. He wanted to be true to her. That being said, he still wanted a woman to tie him down and jerk his cock ‘til it was purple and he begged for mercy. Couldn’t he have both?
He couldn’t imagine Maria doing that to him. She just wasn’t that type of girl. She was a good, honest, sensible girl. She balanced her finances and always made sure she had money left at the end of the month. She didn’t rush into things, didn’t make stupid decisions. She had a good, level-head on her shoulders, as her father was always proud of telling him. She wasn’t flighty and wild, not like her older sister.
Most of the time, Alex was glad that he had been lucky enough to win the heart of the good girl. Bad girls weren’t worth the effort in the long run. However much fun the moments might be, they weren’t a substitute for a stable, healthy relationship. And that was what he had. A proper marriage with a woman he loved. He shouldn’t feel such a need to spend time wanking off at the image of another man’s cock being aggressively abused. How could he expect her to be able to do the increasingly weird things that were in his mind? Even if she could, how could he expect to be able to look at her the same way afterwards?
Part of him wished he could get these images out of his head and just not think about it anymore. Be happy with what he had. That didn’t feel like a choice that was open to him. He couldn’t unthink these things. They were inside his mind now. He had found himself daydreaming these images in idle moments. His mind was full of biting leather straps and shiny PVC and swollen cocks.
It wasn’t something that he felt he could talk about with anyone. He was ashamed to tell his wife and would have been too embarrassed to discuss it with his friends.
He met a friend for a drink after work. Alex had worked with Joe in a couple of places over the years. They had shared many drinks and a few interesting moments in that time. Before Alex had married Maria they had gone out looking for girls together. Joe always seemed to be able to find a willing hole, but Alex always consoled himself that it was because Joe had no standards, whereas Alex preferred to be more choosy about where he was willing to put his cock. Back then they talked of their various conquests openly enough. Surely what he needed to talk about now wasn’t all that different really.
“How are things at home?”
“Maria’s okay, I suppose. It’s not great.”
“It’s understandable that she’s down for a while.”
Alex took a deep breath and tried to figure out how to say it.
“We haven’t had sex since since...”
“Her miscarriage?”
“Yes, but really since she found out she was pregnant.”
Joe seemed to be counting off the months in his head.
“Not at all?”
Alex shook his head.
“That’s rough.”
Joe got up to get more drinks, seemingly having decided that they had reached the logical conclusion of that conversation. Alex sat there stewing while Joe was at the bar. He tried to think of a subtle way to steer the conversation to what was bothering him. It wasn’t working.
“You still watch porn, right?” He ventured.
Joe shrugged.
“There’s two kinds of men in this world. Wankers and liars.”
Alex chose to interpret that as simple agreement.
“What do you watch?”
“Looking for suggestions are you? ‘Fraid I can’t help. I’ve never paid that much attention to the details. The girl on screen doing nasty things is what’s got my attention.”
“Yes, but what kind of things?”
“You’ve been married for a while now, haven’t you? Isn’t it a bit overdue for you to want to have a chat about the birds and the bees?”
“I know how it all works, but surely even you can’t think that that’s all there is
to sex?”
“You mean can it be just for fun? I’m pretty sure most people have learned to accept that one these days.”
“Do you ever watch anything... unusual?”
“You mean like that video with the two midgets and the fat chick?”
Alex shuddered at the memory of that particular item of unspeakable modern cultural ephemera.
“Not like that.”
“You don’t think that counts as unusual? Maybe you spend all your days positioning the ladder so you can get your end away, but to me that was pretty fucking unusual.”
“What about stuff where the women are, y’know...”
“Really guys?”
“No, that’s sick.”
“Some of them are really hot. Imagine how surprised you’d be when it poked you.”
“Is this what you think about?”
“I think about a lot of stuff.”
“Must be why I don’t normally ask.”
“But you are asking.”
“It’s just...”
Joe let the pause continue until it mutated into an awkward silence.
“If you’re going to keep just stopping I’m going to need another drink. I expect you to manage a proper sentence when I come back from the bar.”
It wasn’t easy.
“Do you ever think about women doing stuff to you?”
“Like in the arse? Sure.”
“Women, lady-boys, you just want people that can fuck you, is that it?”
“A couple of guys too.”
“Really? I never thought that.”
Joe shrugged.
“It was years ago. I was bored and they were there. You should try it.”
Alex was willing to take Joe’s word for it but he wasn’t tempted to try it.
“Does your wife know?”
“Probably. She never asked.”
