by Ben Boswell
Her drove his cock into her roughly. She gasped, her mouth lolling open.
"I'm gonna wear you out," he growled.
"Yes!" she hissed.
He reached up with one powerful arm and grabbed the headboard for leverage. He fucked her even harder, brutally. She reached up with both hands, to keep him from driving her skull into the headboard. His cock was a blur. His muscular ass clenching with each thrust.
"Oh God, oh God, oh God," she cried out.
Her body convulsed again. She was soaked with sweat, both her own and his that dripped from his forehead down between her wildly shaking breasts. He was beginning to gasp, grunt with effort, but he didn't slow the pace at all, if anything he seemed to speed up.
"Oh God, you're amazing!" she screamed.
The compliment seemed to set him off. He roared in passion, pounded into her even harder. The bed creaked ominously, and then with a loud crack, the footboard split into two, sending the foot of the bed crashing into the floor.
He didn't even slow. With the bed now slanted at a thirty-degree angle, he dug his toes into the mattress and continued to slam into her. Her head swung from side to side, her wet hair whipping through the air. I'd never seen her this wild, this fully given over to her passions. It was incredibly erotic and terrifying at the same time.
He was getting closer, his thrusts still brutal, but less fluid, more frantic. He slammed into her one, two, three more times, and then with his cock fully lodged in my wife's pussy, he reached down and grabbed her ass as his body shuddered over and over.
As if to punctuate his climax, the rest of the bed gave way with another crash, dropping the mattress flat on the floor. The both laughed, and then he began slowly churning his cock inside her as they kissed passionately. For a while it seemed as though he was planning on transitioning right into round two without a break.
Thankfully, after a few minutes, he rolled off her. They lay side-by-side, their bodies sweaty, both of them breathing hard. They held hands.
"God, that was good," Kris cooed.
He just smiled.
"I can't believe any woman would walk away from that."
"Well some girls are more turned on by a fat wallet than a fat..." he trailed off with a laugh.
"Is that what happened with your last girl?"
Still in the afterglow of coming, he was completely unguarded. "Something like that, I guess. I don't really know. I think one of her old boyfriends came back into her life or something."
I could see the look of frustration on Kris' face. Here was another person to track down, and we didn't even have a name or description. But for me it was suddenly a moment of joy. Not only was I impressed that Kris had immediately gone back to probing him for information, but I also realized he'd given us more than he could realize.
It all made sense. 2C, 1405, “meat hooks,” "fat wallet," "investing in the future..." Somehow all those fragments came together and I realized what Jessi had been up to and how we could find her.
I peered into the bedroom again. Kris' phone was on the bedside table, charging. Again, I was reminded that she hadn't just succumbed to her passions, but had been calculating throughout.
I sent her a text.
-Get his number and get rid of him. I think I know how to find Jessi.
"What was that?" he asked.
"My best friend. It's an emergency. You're going to need to go."
He laughed. "Damn girl, you're cold. Is that it, you get what you want and out I go?"
She leaned over and kissed him. "You're amazing. Leave me your number, but yeah, you need to go."
"You sure I can't tempt you into another go?" He asked. His beefy hand slipped between her legs, a finger sliding into her well-used pussy.
"I'm very tempted," she moaned. "But not right now. This has been fun. Let's end tonight on a good note. Okay?"
He sighed. "Alright. But I'm gonna see you again."
"You better," she replied, giving his fat cock a playful squeeze.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When the door closed behind him, I climbed out of the closet in which I'd hidden, giving Kris a start. She was wrapped in a towel, still dripping in sweat, looking unmistakably freshly fucked.
"Sorry about that," I said.
She looked at me, trying to appraise my mood.
"How long have you been here?"
"Somewhere between too long and just long enough."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do. I had to get him talking. Get him comfortable."
"I know. I don't blame you," I replied, thinking of my own time with Amber. It did occur to me that this was her payback.
"We're really through the looking glass."
"Yeah. Although I'm not even quite sure what that means."
She laughed. A single tear ran down her cheek. "I think it is from some book."
For a few minutes we just stared at each other. We were fighting to recover our old lives, but with every step, every action, every decision, we were moving further away from that goal, becoming different people. She was obviously thinking the same thing.
Finally, she shook her head. "So, where do we find Jessi?"
"I think she went back to her drug dealer boyfriend."
She sighed. "But you have no idea. This is just a guess."
"It is... but in a weird way, these last few days I think I've really come to understand Jessi."
She snorted. "What is there to understand? She's a spoiled brat."
"Maybe," I replied noncommittally. I didn't really want to get into all my thoughts about Jessi just now. I knew that if I tried to explain too much, Kris would just dismiss it.
"But look," I continued. "That place she was living. That high rise I told you about. That was like night and day from everything else in her life. I think she wants to get back to that. Will do anything to get there."
"Okay," she replied, skeptically. "But even if that is true, how does that help us?"
I pulled up a web browser on my phone and typed in "Crystal Heights drug arrest."
It came up right away, a news story from nearly two months ago.
Residents of the exclusive Crystal Tower apartments were awakened early this morning by the sounds of police raiding their high rise... DeMarcus Martin, 36, was taken into custody and charged with possession with intent to distribute a large quantity of cocaine... In addition to twenty kilos of cocaine, with a street value of $1.5 million, authorities also recovered $330,000 in cash... The arrest caps a two-year long investigation into drug sales at various nightclubs in the notorious Iron City district.
I next typed "DeMarcus Martin" into the search bar. Several stories came up.
The first concerned his arraignment:
Drug kingpin DeMarcus Martin was denied bail today... District Judge Melvin Warren accepted the argument made by Assistant District Attorney Blanche Greenlees that Martin was a flight risk... Martin's attorney Anthony Brown promised to appeal the decision.
The next was a backgrounder:
DeMarcus Martin’s road from noted high school basketball prospect to regional drug lord...
I decided to skip that one.
The last story was a short follow-up piece dated today.
Drug kingpin DeMarcus Martin due back in court Monday for a new bail hearing after his attorney filed a brief alleging a civil rights violation in the case...
I pulled up Judge Warren's docket. Martin was scheduled to be in court at 9:30 am. I looked at the time on my phone. That was 30 hours away.
"You think she'll be at the hearing?" Kris asked.
"I'd bet on it."
"Okay, so what do we do next?"
"Well I think we get a few hours’ sleep and then go see the kids at my sister's. Then we need to go shopping."
"Yeah?"
"Well, you have stuff to dress as a fitness instructor and a party girl. I think we need to outfit you as a reporter. That'll allow you to poke around and ask questions of the DA and Martin's attorney at th
e very least."
_____
Kris went to take a shower. I walked into the bedroom. It was a disaster. The bed was shattered, the mattress and box spring on the floor. The sheets were half torn off, wet with sweat, smelling of sex. I finished stripping the bed and laid out a couple of towels on the stained mattress.
Kris appeared wrapped in a towel. She seemed surprised at the mess.
I couldn't help but chuckle. "Why are you shocked? You're the one who trashed the place."
"I had help."
"I saw."
She looked down. "Do you hate me?"
"How could I?" I realized my answer was ambiguous, probably because my emotions were as well. Was I saying that because of my own actions? Watching Jessi? Fucking Amber? Or did I mean that there was nothing she could do to make me hate her, that I would always love her, had always loved her since I was thirteen? Or was I acknowledging that she'd just done what she had to do with Damon to get a lead on Jessi?
She seemed to understand my confusion. Of course, she would. No one in the world knew me better. In many ways, I think she knew me better than I knew myself.
But even still, I had a question, and I needed an answer.
"Were you faking?"
"Yes..." she began though she was shaking her head at the same time. "Daniel, please don't."
I waved my hand around calling attention to our surroundings. "Kris, we have no home. Our kids are with my sister. We've probably lost our jobs. All we have is each other. We can't have secrets."
She looked down. Didn't answer.
"So, Kris, how much of that was fake?"
She looked up at me sadly. She sighed. "Jesus, Daniel…"
I just held her gaze.
"None of it. Okay? It was all real."
"You really loved it?" I asked, trying to hide my pain.
"Yes. Does that make me a bad person?"
"No.... Have you always wanted that? Rough sex with a muscular stranger?"
She laughed darkly. "You make it sound so tawdry."
I waved my hand around the room again.
She nodded. "Okay, this is pretty tawdry."
She paused. Continued, "Okay, Daniel, yes, sometimes I've fantasized about that. We were together so young. And you're wonderful. So kind, so loving. But sometimes I was jealous of Jessi, of her experience, of the kind of dangerous men she attracted."
I didn't say anything.
She went on, "I love your body. I love how fit you are, trim, neat, but yes, if I think of another man, it is a man like Damon. Muscular, dangerous."
"Strong?"
She sighed sultrily. "Yes. I was like a feather to him."
"Come here," I said after a pause.
She melted into my arms. I held her close.
"I love you, no matter what, even if you dream about having sex with men like Damon."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
She let her towel drop to the floor. And then she followed.
"You don't need to," I said.
"Please let me," she replied.
She unbuttoned my pants, pulled down my zipper. She yanked my pants and boxers down, and without hesitation swallowed me deep into her mouth. She'd never done this for me before. Yes, of course, she'd performed oral on me, but only in bed, under the covers, as part of foreplay. She had never dropped to her knees and just sucked me off.
I hated it. Hated feeling like I was taking advantage of her, like she was servicing me. And yet I loved it. It was so raw. So slutty. And it felt so good. The first blowjob years ago was such a distant memory. Over time Kris had become a wonderful little cocksucker.
Fuck, had I just thought that? And yet, how else to describe her. She was naked, on her knees, sucking my cock even as her pussy probably still throbbed from the pounding she'd just taken from another man.
I was rock hard. Was it from her efforts? Or was her session with Damon continually replaying in my mind? Jesus, they'd broken the bed. Fucked so hard that they actually shattered a bed. Who does that?
She swallowed me whole, balls deep, her mouth buried in my pubic hair. That was something new. She had always stopped halfway before. Sal and his buddies had trained her well. It was a dark thought, and yet I enjoyed the feeling of being completely inside her mouth. Her tongue swirled around my shaft, her hands fondled my balls.
"Oh God, that's nice," I moaned.
She let my cock slide partly from her mouth. She looked up at me submissively, pumped my shaft with her fist. It was the same thing she'd done to Sal when she'd swallowed his come, that night in our living room when the whole nightmare had begun. She was offering me the same.
"You sure?"
She answered by stroking me harder.
I came with a shudder. She gulped down my load. And after I was done, she continued to lick my cock clean, picking off the last few drops of my jism with her tongue.
I dropped to the floor and wrapped my arms around her protectively. I led her over to the bed. I turned out the light and drew the blinds against the brightening sky. Then we snuggled together until we each drifted off to sleep.
_____
We only slept a few hours. We both wanted to get on the road to see the kids.
As I drove, Kris worked some logistics. She tracked down the number of the publisher of the East Side Patch, an online community newsletter that covered Crystal Heights. She reached him at home.
She introduced herself as an out-of-work reporter living in the area. She said she was interested in getting back into writing and wanted to see if she could join their staff as a volunteer. They had just done through their second round of layoffs, so he was delighted to get some free labor.
She mentioned her desire to write about the DeMarcus Martin case, a follow-up on the story. He agreed to call down to the District Court first thing in the morning to get her press credentials.
We spent the day with my mother, sister, and the kids. They were shocked to see Kris as a blond, though they kept their worries to themselves. It was obvious we were mixed up in something bad, but I guess they felt that as long as Kris and I were in it together, we'd be okay. I felt the same way.
_____
We were playing with the kids when an email from Sal came it. I excused myself to read it. I already knew what it would be. A second video.
This one featured Kris on her hands and knees getting double-teamed by Rock and Jerry, one in her mouth, the other in her pussy. They were being rough with her. Jerry gripped her head, sawed his cock into her mouth. Drool dripped from her chin.
They switched sides, Rock now face fucking her as he yanked on her hair. Jerry, pounding her pussy, was calling her a "dirty whore" and worse.
After seeing her with Damon, I knew she could take it, take anything they could dish out. She didn't resist. As she'd warned me, it looked almost as if she were a willing participant. And yet, she'd lied as well. She hadn't completely submitted.
They wanted her to whine, squeal in pain, to beg for mercy. And when she didn't, they just got rougher. They switched sides again. Jerry forced himself balls deep into her mouth, held her there. Then he pinched her nose shut, cutting off her air. Her face turned red, then scarlet. But still she refused to struggle. She didn't claw at him, didn't try to push him away. She'd have let him choke her out rather than give him what he wanted.
Rock finally shoved Jerry away. Kris took a desperate gasp of air. And then without hesitation sucked Jerry back into her mouth. When Jerry came in her mouth a minute later, I thought I saw a small grin of satisfaction on her face.
_____
We stayed for dinner, put the kids to bed, and drove back late. Leaving the kids yet again was insanely painful. It sapped us of the ability to speak. We drove home in silence.
I picked up a new set of sheets from the front office. We made the bed and collapsed into it.
From her breathing, I could tell that Kris wasn't asleep. I was tempted to ask her what she was thinking about, but decided
to respect her privacy. I was, anyway, lost in my own thoughts.
I knew there were more videos coming. She had warned me, and anyway, it was obvious that Sal was an obsessive videographer. That didn't bother me much. I doubted he could show me anything that would shock me. But it was precisely that fact that disturbed me.
I was at the point where I could take pride in my wife's ability to take a rough fucking without complaint. The perversity of that made me feel sick.
I thought back to that heartbreaking scene in Saving Private Ryan, where Tom Hanks is talking about how much he's changed in the war. He wonders if his wife will recognize him. He says, "Every man I kill, the farther away from home I feel." I sort of felt that way. With every new compromise, every new transgression, I felt further away from home.
And yet, I wasn't. Kris was right there beside me. But was she still my Kris. Was I still her Daniel? I didn't know. Couldn't know until this was all over. I slid my hand across the gap between us, touched her palm. She closed her hand on mine. At least for now, we were still together. But how much more could we survive?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Kris got up early and picked up a simple skirt, blouse, and pair of flats at Wal-Mart. We'd forgotten to shop earlier. That was okay. She was supposed to look like a reporter for a web site, not a fashion model.
We drove to the courthouse and separated. She went to the media office and picked up her credentials. She was then going to see if she could meet with the DA or anyone else connected with the case.
I cautiously prowled the halls looking for signs of Jessi. It occurred to me that I didn't really know what I would do if I saw her. There was no real way I could compel her to come with me as long as we were in the building, so I realized that even if we did spot her at the hearing, we'd probably have to trail her somewhere else.
I didn't run into her though, and instead, found myself wandering into Judge Warren's courtroom early.
It really isn't like it seems on TV. At the very least it wasn't today. He seemed to be processing various administrative matters, and there were at least a half dozen conversations going on simultaneously, some between the judge and attorneys, others in a cluster by the clerk's table, and then more casual meetings being in various corners of the room.
