Married on Mondays

by HoneyB

  She had Dallas follow her to DéJà’s, parked her sister’s car in the driveway, left the key under the mat, got in his car. They dined at the top of the Marquis, sat in a booth with a rotating floor. Every twenty minutes Winton’s building came into view. Foxy wondered if her husband was in his office working or fucking.

  Dallas ordered the best of everything on the menu, way too much food for them to eat. They sampled sushi, sashimi, lobster, steak, crab cakes, calamari, and the food kept coming along with bottles of wine.

  Making it back to Dallas’s house was a blur for Foxy, but she managed to slur, “Thanks for dinner.”

  Dallas kissed her, picked her up, stumbled to the bedroom with her in his arms. He dropped her on the bed, fell on top of her, then said, “Tonight, I’m gonna fuck you like you’re my woman and make love to you like you’re my wife.”

  Anxious to have his body intertwined with hers, Foxy removed his clothes. “I’m going to suck every last sperm out your dick or get lockjaw trying.”

  Dallas grinned as though he were posing to have his picture taken.

  Foxy sucked his soft dick into her mouth and swallowed. His head slid past her tonsils. She hummed, gurgled, moaned. “Ummm.” Bobbing, she tightened her jaws, suctioning blood into his dick, then released. His dick stood at her attention.

  Dallas stripped away her clothes, frisked his fingers through her hair, slapped her ass. “Down on all fours,” he said, pointing to the floor.

  Foxy got on her hands and knees, then smiled. She wasn’t into BDSM like DéJà, but she enjoyed what Dallas had introduced as free play—impromptu moments where one of them initiated something out of the norm and the other immediately played along, no questions asked. They didn’t have to be naked or in the bedroom to express themselves.

  Free play could start at the restaurant with them feeding one another with their fingers or his finger fucking her under the table. She could motion to whisper in his ear, then stick her tongue inside, and say, “Come fuck me in the restroom.”

  Crawling behind her, Dallas circled her like he was a lion in the jungle and she was the lioness checking him out. He slapped her titty, stood tall on his knees, swung his dick side to side. Foxy turned her ass to him, glanced over her shoulder, then nodded.

  “Come and get it,” she said.

  He held her hips, penetrated her pussy, then like a wild beast he fucked her fast. Instantly she came. He pulled out, put it back in. Pulled out. Put his dick back inside her. “I am one lucky man,” he said, ejaculating on her ass. Dallas massaged his sperm on Foxy’s booty.

  She rubbed her ass, then sucked each of her fingers. “Got more?”

  He eased his dick back inside, then said, “There’s a lot more. I’m just getting started, baby.”

  Foxy placed her hand on Dallas’s chest. “Stop.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She sat on the edge of his bed. “I don’t understand why one minute I’m so in love with you. Then I feel guilty for being with you. All these years you’ve been an emotional outlet for me but is this—” She paused, sighed, then continued. “Is what we have love? Or are we two people who don’t want to be alone?”

  Dallas exhaled. Held her hand. “Come here,” he said, leading her to the living room. He powered on his iPod. “All the Man That I Need” by Whitney Houston resonated from his Bose speakers.

  He hugged her. Lay her head against his chest. “Remember, you dedicated this song to me on our first anniversary? Please don’t tell me I’m not all the man you need. Other than my girls, you’re all I’ve got.”

  Tears streamed between her cheek and his chest. “I’m scared of letting go. I’m afraid to keep holding on.”

  An eclipse of her heart resurged. Once again Foxy was confused. Dazzling baby bootees in her purse. Her man fucking her doggie-style. Her husband, only God knew where, probably wouldn’t come home again tonight. Fair exchange at this point in her marriage was necessary for her to maintain her sanity. Foxy decided to stay with Dallas until midnight, then she’d go home.

  There was next Sunday to try and share time and her newfound desires with her husband. And no matter what happened tonight. She could pray about it tomorrow.

  CHAPTER 33

  Winton

  Midnight. Sunday. Winton stood in front of his wife. He folded his arms to keep from choking her. He looked down at her. His wife’s hair was gathered in a mangled ponytail. She had on a red and gold sleeveless dress and stilettos. He sniffed the air above her head. The stench of stale cum disgusted him.

  “Where in hell have you been?” he asked, already knowing.

  He wasn’t sure what made him stick his finger in her pussy, then sniff her scent but what he wanted to do next would get him life in prison. He motioned to clench his fingers around her throat, cut off her oxygen, strangle her to death. His hand stopped an inch from her neck. Refraining from killing Foxy, he smeared her juices on her jaw.

  “You didn’t have the decency to douche?”

  Foxy shoved him aside. “Fuck you, Winton.”

  “Fuck me? No, fuck you! You’re out all night with your what, your fucking cousin. Got me bailing that”—he paused, refraining from using the word nigga, then said—“bailing his ass out.”

  Foxy’s ponytail whipped in front, then behind her, as she faced him, stepped up to him, stared up at his face. He’d never seen his wife give him a look that projected she could kill him too.

  “You come home before midnight for the first few nights in three years and what? Expect me to be home waiting on your selfish, inconsiderate, cheating ass while you’re fucking some other woman with the dick that should be inside this good pussy every day? You’re the one who forgot you were married, Winton Brown, big shot attorney-at-law, not me. Ya still got that nasty-ass red thong from three years ago? Who was that bitch? Who the fuck is Isis? Don’t blame me for having a stunt double, do your damn job. Go thank Dallas for saving your marriage. If it weren’t for him, I would’ve divorced you a long time ago.

  “When you want your wife back, you know where to find me. Until then, go live with that bitch Isis. I’m sleeping in, let her suck your dick in the morning. I’m tired. Tired of being alone in this marriage. Tired of being ignored by you. Tired of your ass, period. Now get and stay the fuck out my face!”

  He watched his wife’s booty jiggle down the hallway and into the bedroom. Slam! The doorknob fell off. This wasn’t a good time to continue arguing with her, but the conversation wasn’t over.

  Winton got in his car. Dallas could have his wife. Against his better judgment, he drove to Nova’s and rang her bell. Nova opened her door. He expected her to look ordinary and not so attractive in the middle of the night.

  “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you. Come in,” she said.

  Nova was more beautiful without makeup. “Thanks.” Her place was ultrafeminine with porcelain dolls displayed throughout the living room.

  “What brings you here?” she asked.

  “Came by to see if your offer was still good.” He needed his dick sucked. The unforgettable stench of another man’s sperm was still on his finger and in his nostrils. He exhaled hard through his nose.

  “Let’s take a shower,” Nova suggested.

  “Great idea.”

  She stepped in the shower with him. Winton pressed his lips to hers. Her lips felt amazing and he couldn’t wait for her to give him head. As he stepped out of the shower behind her, Nova exuded sex. His dick hardened like it had done the first day she sat in his office. She handed him a bottle of oil, then led him to the bedroom.

  “I want you to massage my body. I want your hands all over me. Fast and firm. Nice and slow. And I want you to spank this pussy, finger fuck the shit out of me, then I’m going to take that big-ass dick and let you stick it wherever you’d like.” She opened her legs, spread her pussy. “Look at her. She’s so damn hot for you.”

  Winton admired Nova’s Brazilian wax. He wondered if Foxy had said those things to Dall
as. Winton wasn’t gay, but Dallas was a great-looking man and he was single. The background check he’d done on Dallas revealed he was, like Foxy claimed, a headhunter for corporate executives of the top companies in the country. Well, at least that part about Dallas that his wife had told him was true. But what made a handsome, successful bachelor want Foxy?

  Maybe it was time Winton confronted Dallas.

  CHAPTER 34

  Victoria

  Precious moments

  Whisk by

  Conjugating lies

  Truth unfolds

  Beauty beholds

  In eyes

  That are brave

  And wise

  Victoria opened her eyes at four in the morning. Another restless night fearing her BlackBerry would alarm her. Naomi was sleeping peacefully. She had to talk to her wife before their day was interrupted with clients, customers, and things unforeseen like Rain showing up at their front door.

  She nudged Naomi. “Honey, wake up. I’m ready.”

  Naomi yawned, stretched her arms. “Ready for what?”

  “To talk.”

  “Okay.” Naomi yawned, propped the pillow behind her head, leaned against the headboard. “I’m listening,” she said, yawning a second time.

  Victoria hesitated, cleared her throat, faced Naomi. She folded her legs like a chicken wing, placed her hands in her lap. “Regardless of what happens based on what I’m about to tell you, know that I love you and I never meant to hurt you.”

  Naomi exhaled, yawned, nodded.

  “I haven’t been honest with myself or you. I’ve never stopped seeing Rain.”

  Naomi interrupted, “Seeing or fucking?”

  Victoria swallowed the lump in her throat, remembered her prayer at the altar to tell Naomi the truth. “Both.”

  Naomi’s body tensed. Her lips tightened. “Keep going.”

  Covering her mouth, Victoria fought to hold back her tears but couldn’t. “He’s angry because I won’t—”

  Naomi shouted, “Don’t tell me about how he feels! How do you feel?” Her wife readjusted her pillow. Leaned back.

  Victoria flinched. She’d never heard Naomi yell. The feeling was horrible. Made Victoria want to disappear. “I don’t know what I feel. There’s a part of me that’s sexually drawn to the way he penetrates me, and—”

  Smack! Naomi’s hand landed across Victoria’s face. “I’ve heard enough!”

  Victoria cried, not knowing if she deserved that or not. She understood Naomi’s frustrations. Felt responsible for hurting Naomi. She slapped Naomi’s face. “Don’t ever hit me again. What I did was wrong, but that does not give you the right to abuse me.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry,” Naomi said, hugging her. “But I don’t understand why you didn’t come to me. I never expected your desire to be with men to go away overnight. Victoria, I married you because I’m crazy about you. I love you. But I know you’re human. I hit you because you lied to me, not because you had sex with him.”

  Was Naomi justifying her action? Was she justifying hers? Which was worse? Lying, cheating, or fighting? “I’m so sorry,” Victoria cried.

  “Look at me,” Naomi said, holding Victoria’s hands. “Tell me the truth. All I want to know is do you want a divorce?”

  Victoria shook her head. “No. No. I love you.”

  “Then let’s put this behind us and move forward. Kiss me,” Naomi said.

  Their tears blended. Was it possible to forgive and forget that fast? Victoria caressed, then sucked her wife’s breast. She opened the nightstand drawer, removed the dildo and harness from a satin pouch. She attached two gold bullets to the strap-on. Victoria sat Indian-style with her back against the headboard.

  Naomi mounted the dildo, wrapped her legs behind Victoria. Victoria eased one bullet into her rectum and the other into Naomi’s ass, then brushed her nipples against Naomi’s stomach while sucking Naomi’s nipples.

  Hugging Victoria, Naomi ground her hips onto the dildo until her body trembled.

  Victoria prayed a silent prayer that Naomi would never let her go. Good sex with Rain wasn’t a good reason to go back to him. Victoria would rather be loved by a woman than be tolerated by a man.

  CHAPTER 35

  DéJà

  What made Acer faithful?

  DéJà knew there were women who’d done all the right things for their husbands and their marriages failed. Their husbands cheated and disrespected them. Which was harder, staying in a bad marriage or leaving? DéJà imagined Foxy and Victoria stayed because they were the ones cheating. Even when she’d watched Cheaters on television, the cheaters never wanted to leave. The person who’d done the right things in the relationship felt betrayed and ended the relationship. Cheaters begged, cried, and pleaded for forgiveness. DéJà had no reasons to and would never cheat on Acer.

  “Handsome, breakfast is ready,” DéJà called out to her husband.

  “Coming, precious!”

  Two steps forward, hopefully only one back. Foxy had dashed out of the restaurant yesterday like her life depended on it, the hell with how she and Victoria were getting home. DéJà hadn’t heard from Foxy or Victoria. Not good, but she’d see them this morning, hopefully on time.

  “Morning,” Acer said, sitting at the table.

  DéJà placed a plate stacked with three piping hot cinnamon pecan pancakes and another plate with scrambled eggs and bacon in front of her husband. Her plate had one pancake, two scrambled eggs, and two strips of bacon.

  “Honey, this looks good,” Acer said. He leaned over the plate and inhaled. “Um, um, um,” then drowned his pancakes in buttery syrup.

  “Thanks for picking us up from the mall,” DéJà said. “I honestly didn’t want Winton to find out about Dallas. Not from me. Not like that. My sister thinks I’m trying to force her to end her affair.”

  Acer chewed, swallowed, then said, “I’m not concerned with Winton. He might be the top attorney, but he’s a despicable husband. Whether he overheard from you or found out from someone else, he got what he deserved. I’m more concerned about Foxy. She was the happiest, sexiest… not sexier than you, precious, but your sister was so full of life when she married Winton. How he destroyed that beautiful woman is inhumane.”

  DéJà was quiet. She reflected on how Foxy was the life of every party in high school, in college, and after they’d graduated. Foxy used to make her and Victoria laugh. Her sister was confident, sassy, and sophisticated. Before Foxy married Winton, men literally begged to date Foxy. Her clients took her on all-expenses-paid vacations. One man, the man who should’ve uplifted her sister, burst her sister’s bubbling personality.

  “Hadn’t thought about it like that,” DéJà said. “Good point. Thanks.”

  “No problem, you still need me to drop you off at Foxy’s to get your car?”

  “Yes, I do. Handsome, do you think I’m too involved in my sisters’ lives?” DéJà asked.

  “Uh, no. Not at all. That’s what family is supposed to do. Look out for one another.”

  “How are you feeling this morning?”

  Shoving a strip of bacon in his mouth, he said, “Good.”

  “Do you think I’m too bossy?” she asked.

  “Nope.” Acer’s plate was half empty.

  Her husband ate faster. He knew regardless of his answers, she’d make her own decisions. She just needed him to listen to her.

  “Breakfast was great,” Acer said, kissing her forehead. “I’d better get going. If you want to talk later, call me at noon. Love you,” he said, excusing himself from the table.

  “Honey, wait. Come back,” DéJà said. “You forgot that fast. You’re dropping me off.”

  “Oh, yeah, throw on something quick,” he said.

  “Sit down for minute,” DéJà said to him.

  Acer frowned. Sat in his seat. Covered her hand with his. “What is it?”

  “I want us to have a baby,” she said. DéJà was serious ’bout not letting Foxy have the firstborn.


  A smile stretched across her husband’s face. He loosened his tie, carried her to the bedroom. Undressed her.

  “I have to get on the bottom,” DéJà said, holding her legs in the air, praying they would get pregnant soon.

  Acer stroked deep inside her.

  “When you cum, push all the way in,” she told him. Gripping his ass, she pulled him toward her, tilted her pelvis, held his ass tighter. “We’re going to have to do this a lot. It’s going to take time for me to start ovulating but I want this baby as soon as possible.”

  Her husband hadn’t ejaculated in the morning for years. Now, he’d have to cum deep inside her at least twice a day until she became pregnant. “Go shower and get dressed. We’re late. Never mind. Don’t wait for me. I’ll figure out how to get my car back,” she said, holding her legs in the air.

  Her husband showered, then danced out the door. “I love you.”

  “Love you too, handsome.”

  DéJà waited twenty minutes giving the sperm time to find an egg that wasn’t there. Practice would one day, hopefully soon, produce the positive results she wanted. She cleared the table, cleaned the kitchen, called her dad.

  “Hello, my queen,” he answered.

  DéJà said, “Don’t give me that. Where have you been? You need to come see us.”

  Mason laughed. “That’s my girl. I will, promise. Working on some things first. Give your sisters a hug for me, and Daddy will see his three favorite ladies real soon… kisses.”

  DéJà sighed, then said, “Kisses, Daddy. Bye.”

  At the pace her father was moving, she’d be pregnant before she saw him.

  Acer called.

  “Hey, handsome.”

  “Your car is parked in the driveway,” he said. “Have a nice day.”