Cherry Blossoms

by KT Morrison

  “The door’s open, Geoff,” she said.

  He nodded. He stopped, inhaled deeply. Deeply as he could, tried to draw as much of her as he could inside him.

  GEOFF

  “Mom’s mean sometimes,” Odie whispered.

  Odie had wanted a second helping of tiramisu but Nia had said no. Odie could have worked Geoff until she got that tiramisu and his little girl didn’t like that mom wasn’t a pushover like dear old Dad.

  Geoff was sitting on a Muskoka chair, on the grassy hill looking out over the lake. Odie was in his lap, laying with her back against his chest and they watched the Dragonieri brothers out on the dock, getting their fireworks together for the show. They were opening boxes and arranging the contents out on the cedar planks.

  Doug and his wife and their two little girls were down to the left and other families had blankets spread and were sitting on them, waiting. Four boys were running around, weaving through seated families, chasing a fifth boy who ran with a sizzling sparkler held out, lighting up one side of his face in yellow. It was dark out. Not too dark but just dark enough for fireworks. The other side of the lake was a black jagged conifer line. Lit windows on the other side, dim yellow rectangles; campfires burned, here in this yard, contained behind a landscaped stone ring, and around the lake. The air smelled nicely like woodsmoke.

  “You warm enough?” he said to her, ignoring her statement.

  She nodded and rubbed her eyes. Getting tired.

  He hugged her, said, “Your mom’s looking out for you, you know? It’s not mean, she loves you.”

  She didn’t respond, she burrowed herself into the crook of his arm and watched them down on the dock.

  Nia was down with the boys. Her slim, small black silhouette with her long shapely legs, moving around the big Dragonieri shapes. They both dwarfed her.

  His hands were still a little numb from her naked revelation. He was still committed to this but it wasn’t easy. He watched their black shapes interacting down there, arms moving and gesturing, drinking from bottles, leaning close to talk. Even this was getting him excited. He loved to see his wife happy, like the single young Nia he fell in love with. Such a menacing proposition but one he relished despite its pain.

  “Mom pays more attention to those guys than she does to us,” Odie murmured.

  He looked down at her sweet face tucked to his chest. She was curled against him, watching her mom down there with those men.

  Geoff gave her a squeeze, said, “That’s her boss, Odie…it’s like…it’s like she’s working now…you know? Remember I told you about obligations? Duties? Things you had to do when you’re older? That’s what your mom is doing. She’ll be back.”

  The show was about to start and he saw Nia’s black shape was gone, looked to the right, saw it weaving through the blankets, working her way back up to him and Odie, coming into the light.

  “See,” he said to Odie, gave her a gentle shake. She was coming back to them.

  Nia got to them, smiling, put herself down in the chair next to them that Geoff had carefully butted up against his, close as they could be. He held his curled palm out face up on the armrest and her fingers laced through his. They leaned back in their chairs while Dino and Rocco announced each firework before they put a torch to it. The sky lit up with bursting phosphorous colours, showering blues and pinks, starbursts that became starbursts…

  The kids yelled with excitement, Odie gasped, and they watched them all go off, emptying a thousand dollar box of fireworks in half an hour to celebrate the date Canada became a kingdom in the British Empire. Blue Devils, Magic Thunderbirds, Dark Stars, Goldeneyes, Fantasmic Flowers, Flying Fishes…

  Odie clapped and Geoff smiled watching the light’s reflection in her big black wondrous eyes.

  GEOFF

  It was a long and quiet car ride home. Nia sat sweetly next to him as he drove and she drifted in and out of sleep. Her head would fall forward, then yank back suddenly with a loud sniff and he would laugh silently to himself. He listened to a podcast about publishing put out by the CBC. Odie slept soundly in the back. She didn’t make a peep the whole way home, he’d watch her pouted face jostle, tucked awkwardly, turned up, stuck in the hollow next to her shoulder.

  Nia perked up once they got into the city, looking around but not talking, listening to his boring podcast. They got home at just after midnight and Geoff carried Odie up to bed, her legs over his hips, her arms around his neck.

  Nia was in bed, watching him as he came in, smiling. He brushed his teeth, leaned back from the sink and saw her still watching and smiling. He frowned.

  When he got into bed she curled up next to him and whispered in his ear, “Rocco will fuck me.”

  “You asked him?”

  “No, not with words. I flirted with him in the basement.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Girl shit.”

  He laughed. “Girl shit?”

  “Yeah, you know,” she sat up on one hip, tossed her hair and bat her long lashes at him.

  He felt it in his belly. “Shit, that works. I just felt that.”

  “I know you did.”

  “Yeah, a twitch.”

  “Where? A twitch here?” and she put her hand on his belly under the sheets, her palm pressed into him and she moved it down, her fingers crawling, leading the way until he felt them wrap around his hardening shaft.

  “How do you know—what did he say?”

  “He’s all man,” she said, mimicking Rocco’s stern lowered-brow face, “but I flashed him my big eyes and I pressed my breasts together…my nipples got hard and I let him see. Then, I saw the horny little boy in him.”

  “Oooh, you’re so bad. You like that?”

  “No, I hate that. I want the animal in him.”

  “He is an animal. He guts deer, skins them, hangs them by their neck.”

  “Shit, now I’m getting wet. That’s the Rocco who’s going to fuck me. I’ve got the greatest sweetest most passionate and gentle lover right here…nobody’s going to be better than you.”

  “I love you, Nia,” he said and closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of her hand on him over his pyjamas.

  “I want a big hard cock, thick and long, attached to a real fucking macho asshole, I want to feel myself get spread wide. When a man is really big, Geoff...”

  “Yeah?” His cock surged suddenly, turned to steel under her fingers at her very purposeful manipulative dirty talk.

  “When he’s big, Geoff…it’s different...it feels so good...so full,” she moved her hand up his belly, just above his pubic pad near his belly button, said, “you can feel it right here...so deep...so…wrong…”

  “Shit, Nia…” he groaned.

  “Yeah, that’s what I want…”

  “You slut,” he said, his hand moving to her bent thigh and feeling her soft flesh, her rump where it curved, sunk into the mattress.

  “Yeah, I’m a dirty slut, and I’m going to get fucked. Like a whore. He’s going to fuck my pussy, he’s going to make me scream,” she said, stroking him again, along his shaft, over his pants.

  “Oh, baby, you sure?”

  “I’ll be okay. I’ve got my little Geoff. He’ll take care of me.” Her hand slipped into his pants and he gasped when he felt her hot damp hand clasp his aching erection.

  “I will, Nia. I really will.”

  “I want you to clean my pussy, okay?”

  “What?”

  “I need you to care of me. I’ll need you to clean me, make me clean. Make me your Nia again.”

  “O-okay. Oh wow...”

  “Hot right?”

  “Fuck, yeah. You’re dirty.”

  “You okay with that?”

  He nodded. “Do you think his balls are as big as Dino’s?”

  She laughed, closed her eyes and leaned forward, pressed her forehead to his chest. “Ha ha,” she gently sighed, “I knew you saw them...I knew you’d be thinking of them…”

  “I saw them.”<
br />
  She said, “He’s got some big balls, doesn’t he?”

  “They were huge.”

  “Bigger than these, aren’t they?” she said, her fingertips smoothing down his shaft and gently stroking his scrotum.

  “Oh, Nia, squeeze them…”

  “Yeah?” she asked, then she put her hand over his balls, gripped them and squeezed them very lightly, making him groan.

  “Do you miss his balls?”

  “Miss his big balls? You don’t miss balls...”

  He laughed, said, “You’d miss mine wouldn't you?”

  “Aw, yeah, I would,” she said and she kissed her way down his stomach, lifted his waistband and pulled his PJs down. She kissed each ball softly. Kissed the underside of his cock at his swollen base.

  “You miss his cock though.”

  “A cock you can miss,” she whispered, her breath soughing past his throbbing erection. “Not balls really.”

  “Is that why you cheated on me.”

  “Geoff...” she muttered, raising up, her face pained.

  “Really...” he said, encouraging her.

  “Geoff, I don’t want to talk about that…”

  “We’re only doing truth, remember, Nia…”

  “Geoff, the truth...the truth is I just don’t want to talk about it. I was in the mood but if we talk about it I’ll...be sad...”

  “Tell me you missed his cock then...if you did...”

  “Geoff...”

  “Not cheating, just...”

  She frowned, still feeling a little stung by his prompting, she stroked him again, idly, watching his cock in her hand. “I did…for a little while. Then I forgot about it. I was with other guys...they were average…totally great…some bigger...then you—and I love this cock of yours. And penis size, Geoff…honestly…it’s a small piece of the puzzle. It’s there…but there’s so much more…so much…”

  “You don’t wish I was bigger?”

  “No, Geoff. Bigger would be nice but I love you and I love your cock. I’ve never once thought I was unhappy with your cock.”

  “Nia, please…”

  “What?” She paused, looking at his expression, trying to understand what he was communicating without using words that he didn’t feel comfortable using. “Oh,” she laughed, “I’m being too real, aren’t I?”

  He nodded.

  She brushed her hair back from her face, took a handful of it and tossed it over her shoulder, fluttered her eyes for a moment and gathered herself. She said, “I wish you had a cock that satisfied me like other men have satisfied me.”

  “Yeah?” he said, his heart picking up its pace.

  “Yeah, Geoff, this is okay,” wagging his thing, gripping it lightly in a fist. “But it’s not something I…you know…masturbate to.”

  “You masturbate?”

  “Of course, baby,” she said and she went up and down his shaft lightly.

  “Really?”

  “Geoff, come on…you know I do.”

  “No, I don’t. When?”

  “In the shower sometimes…when you stay up late in the studio…wh—”

  “What do you do?”

  She lifted her T-shirt up over her head now, looking at his cock. She said, “I think about men with…dongs…what I’d call a dong…” Her eyes had gone sultry and he knew she was turning herself on with her dirty talk, knew there was some truth to what she was saying.

  “Dong?”

  “That’s when the end of a guy’s cock is big.”

  “Wow,” he said watching her braless breasts gently swing back and forth while she shook her hair out of the shirt. Her nipples were hard, her plump aureolas engorged, her dark buds tightened and stretching from her body. “You’ve got a name for that?”

  “That’s my favourite kind of cock.”

  “You’ve got a favourite kind of cock?”

  “Of course. Those ones feel the best.”

  “Shit, Nia, that’s so bad…so hot…” He sat up now, couldn’t take one more minute without her pressed against him. He put his lips on hers, let his hands come up and cradle her hanging breasts. He took her tongue into his mouth, tasted her toothpaste, her Scope. She smelled wonderful—his incredible, living, breathing, thriving young wife. Her heart beat in her chest, happy steady thumps, pulsing blood between her legs, engorging her delicate sensitive flower-flesh packed in that tight mound, giving it heat, her dirty thoughts making it damp. His hand drifted, slipped under her sleeping shorts, found her without underwear, found her hotter and wetter than he’d hoped.

  “I want to make love to you all night, Nia, I fucking love you so much.”

  “Make love to me, Geoff,” she said and she pulled him down on top of her. He slipped his pants off and she did the same, her eyes trembling with love and excitement as she watched him then get over her and get between her legs. He hugged her, put his arms around her and her arms went around his back. He lowered his hips and she slipped a hand between them, grabbed his cock from the top and guided him in, held him steady while he sunk himself all the way inside his wife.

  He made love to her sweetly, gently, his mouth kissing and sucking, exploring her lips, her tongue, working her neck and her jaw, nibbling on her ears. She whispered, “I love you.”

  They made love, messing their sheets, rolling and twisting; he lost track of time. He ran his hands over her warm body, thought of her being shared, saw her stomach and her softly heaving bosom, tried to imagine the sight from another man’s eyes. How lucky he would feel, what an amazing sight she was to behold. He thrusted more urgently, getting close, and she pulled him tight against her, her nails dragging on his sweaty back, she said, “It feels good, Geoff, but I’ve had so much better.”

  “I’m just your husband…”

  “You can’t be everything, right?”

  “Right…”

  “I need it sometimes. I itch up deep and I need a big man to scratch it…ah…” she panted.

  “You need a dong…”

  “I do…ah…I need it hard and deep and oh…so wide…”

  “I just can’t do that, Nia,” he moaned in her ear.

  “No, baby, but I love you…I’ll get Rocco to fuck me the way I need…ah…he can do it…he’s a fucking man…you can love me…he can, ah, fuck…me…”

  “Shit, ah, Nia,” he felt the come bubble from him and he pulled himself out of her and they watched him as he ran it across her slippery mound, squashed her perfect flesh, watched his white streams shoot in succinct hot pulses onto her warm sweaty belly.

  “Oh, Geoff,” she said and she ran her fingertips through where he’d splashed her, ran them in circles through his semen and then she ran them over her tongue with her eyes closed. She was on fire, out of her mind. She did it again, her chest heaving. She used her fingers again to taste his seed. He watched her. Watched his dirty wife do the dirtiest thing he’d ever see her do and he wanted to consume her. He wanted to be one with her. He was overwhelmed with feelings of lust and love and togetherness. He wanted to be her. He kissed her between her perfect breasts and she held his head. He kissed down and she urged him, wanted him lower. He kissed her folded belly, ran his tongue along its creases then through her belly button, lower, and lower, across the flat plain above her mound. He could smell her now. Smell her sex, smell her desire. Smell his own filthy evidence. He dove between her legs, tasted his own excitement, inhaled his bleach, tasted his seed, felt her soft membranes, pulled them with his lips while she moaned loudly mournfully above him. Her fingers clawed at his scalp, drove him on. He ran his tongue up her hot stretched centre, tasted her copper, her tang, he found her button, her soft swollen folded tissue and he sucked it into his mouth, pulled hard then delicately coddled with his lips. She cried out. His tongue pierced her. His mouth slid across her flesh, through her slick sweat and his own seed and he wanted to between her legs all night, he wanted her in his mouth when the sun came out. She came. He felt it. Her thighs clapped his ears and her nails scra
tched him, her belly trembled. He persisted. He clenched his eyes and he licked and pulled and nibbled until she came again.

  Her legs clamped firm on him, held him tight so he couldn’t suck on her flesh. She moaned, twisted to her side and bent his neck. He slipped out of her thighs, one going over his ear til he came out, his hair sticking straight up, between the cheeks of her ass. He grabbed the back of her thighs and he gripped them, pushed her legs apart, looked at her wet pink sex, looked at the beauty she hid from everyone everyday, looked at her sexiest part that she kept in her panties and only let the very special see. She was moaning still, aching for more but ticklish. He spread her wider, lowered himself between her cheeks, he kissed her at her tight perineum, ran his tongue along the tiniest little folds she had there. He kissed her anus, breathed her in. She spread her legs wider and she writhed and moaned into the mattress. His hands clasped her buttocks, grabbed handfuls of her cool bare soft flesh and he parted her. She urged him, grunting and squeaking in her throat. He kissed her little hole, swathed his tongue up her dirty seam and his mind reeled with lascivious madness. He felt faint. His breath was clutched, his heart skipping beats. His ears rang and he couldn't believe his filthy wife would let him do this.

  “Will Rocco do this for you?” hi voice softly whispering across her wet flesh.

  “No,” she gasped.

  “You wont let him…”

  “I need him for something else…he can keep his tongue in his mouth…I, ah, want his cock, his power…”

  Her fingers jabbed his chin, she’d dug her hand underneath her and her fingers were mashing her clit. She gasped as she jerked herself off, her breath high and squeaking, wriggling her ass against him, loving the dreadfully dirty thing he was doing to her. Her hand buzzed hard and fast across herself, he felt her at his chin, heard her wet pussy suck and pop.

  She cried out, a long dry croak that went on and on, coming and coming—another man in her dirty thoughts while her husband buried his tongue in her anus.