Cherry Blossoms

by KT Morrison

  He laughed and got on the bed on his knees, lifted the cover and slipped himself in next to her, worked his bare legs under the cool cotton til they found his wife’s warm, tanned, shaved legs. “That’s what I deal with every day.”

  “It’s that Arts Camp you sent her to.”

  “She loves it.”

  Nia smiled to him, said, “Maybe just tell her to skip the drama class. Stick to the drawing.”

  His lips pressed to her forehead. “Are you stifling her creativity?”

  She kissed his bearded chin said, “She’s a seven-year-old Nia Giannopoulos...and I broke my dad’s heart when I turned thirteen.”

  He flopped onto his back and clutched his chest, said, “You just broke mine now.”

  She nuzzled in and bit his earlobe, said, “You’ve got six more years.”

  “Oh, God,” he gasped to the ceiling, doing his own theatrics now, “My baby.”

  Nia was silent. There was something in her eyes that was different.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head, like she’d been surprised, caught doing something, but she shrugged it off, said, “Nothing, baby, just...just getting old...it’s weird.”

  “It really is,” he agreed.

  Nia had got home very late. After 9 P.M. before his lovely wife came through the kitchen door. Odie was already in bed and the dinner he’d prepared put away in the fridge with Saran Wrap stretched over the casserole dish he’d prepared it in. She’d shown up on the doorstep looking exhausted, her shoulders slumped like she’d been pouring concrete all day instead of just accounting for it.

  He’d smiled and welcomed her. Offered to heat her something in the microwave but she’d told him she’d eaten at a drive-thru with Rocco. And somehow that simple act hit him in the belly worse than fucking him. Somehow stopping and having a meal in a distant town with this man seemed more intimate and hurtful than opening her legs and letting him have his way with her. What the fuck was that?

  “Geoff?”

  “What, baby?”

  “Can we make love?”

  “Nia...what...Nia, I would...of course, baby...”

  “I didn’t know if you were still in the mood—”

  “Mood?”

  “Long day and all...”

  “Nia, honey,” he said, and he put his arms around her warm body. “You still want me?”

  “Want you?”

  “Your boring old husband...”

  “Geoff...”

  “What?”

  “Not tonight, okay?”

  “Not tonight what?”

  “Please, Geoff, just make love to me. I want you to be a man...my man...”

  “I am your man.”

  “You are,” she said, looking point blank in his eyes now, both of them on their sides in their marital bed.

  He kissed her on her lips, tentatively, looking in her eyes.

  “Well?”

  She didn’t say anything.

  She’d given him a thumbs up when she’d come home tonight—that was it, that was all the info she’d divulged about her day back with Rocco. Two texts during the day while he was working. One in the early morning saying everything was okay with her job, another one later saying she wouldn’t be home until nine o’clock tonight. She couldn’t avoid this. What did she talk about all day with the man she’d slept with on a business trip? Cheated on her husband with, from Rocco’s perspective. Did she come home so late because they fucked after work?

  “Nia? What happened today?”

  She looked down, to the side, and that avoidance hurt his sensitive heart. Look me in the eyes, Nia. “It’s okay,” she said, finally. “We’re okay.”

  “Your job is okay, but you know...”

  “Yeah, it was weird...but we kept it professional...”

  He tried to make her laugh, raked his fingers through her hair above her ear, said, “You didn’t fuck today?”

  She shook her head no, but there it was again—avoidance. Looking into his chest, not in his eyes. “Just...please...can we not...I just want to—”

  “Did you do something with him today?”

  “Yeah,” she said.

  “You did?”

  She rolled her eyes away from him, not dismissing him—there was something else there. “Please, Geoff, come and kiss me...”

  “Nia, tell me first.”

  “I don’t want to do this...I want to—”

  “That’s fine, Nia, but...you can’t keep it from me. If you keep it from me it’s...it hurts...it’s something just between you and him. I don’t like that.”

  “Okay...”

  “No details, right now...but tell me—did you do something?”

  “I used my hands on him.”

  His heart pounded fiercely. The shame, the badness in this woman he loved. The passion she had, the love of sex, the love of masculine men and their bodies, her knowledge of how they work and how to please them. One split second, instantly overwhelmed by all that knowledge of her, the weight of his love for her overwhelming any anger or dislike of the things she might do.

  “You made him come?”

  She nodded.

  He let her off the hook. Looking into her loving and trembling eyes, knowing what she wanted right now was her husband and not to play a dirty game, he pushed it away. Pushed away the truth that she had jerked off another man today. But thinking of her doing that, thinking of her pretty hands on what she described as a massive, ugly, uncircumcised penis made his cock like steel. He kept it inside, parcelled that selfish hungry demon away for later. He would love to hear every dirty tidbit of her day but right now he wanted to be what she needed. He was always what she needed.

  He held her cheek in his palm and he kissed her lovingly, felt her succumb to him, surrender to him, a heavy sigh escaping her lips, her head tilting for him, her eyes closing in passion. She kissed him back and he took her tongue with his own, pulled her to him. His hands went up under her T-shirt and smoothed her bare back, felt her soft supple skin, felt the bunching at the small of her back as she arched for him, pressed her belly to his belly, her mound into his hardness. He was steely, evident, and feeling her husband’s excitement pressed against her got her breaths coming faster and her hand darted between them and she grabbed him through his pyjamas, moaned into his mouth as they kept kissing. Then her hands were under his waistband and she was pushing his pants down his legs, her lips still locked to his, her breath ragged through her nose.

  He slid his hands over the gentle, easy swell of her taut rump and he coddled her cold cheeks, his fingers slipping under the elastic hem of her black panties, feeling that intimate flesh she kept covered. He slid the panties down her ass, felt them press her supple flesh, kept them moving, sliding, down to her thighs. A knee came up, and he yanked a panty leg over that and she was able to get her own panties down without any hands just wriggling and kicking her legs while she pushed his pants right down to his knees. He did the rest, getting himself out of them as Nia’s hands went between his legs, one hand grabbing and stroking his aching shaft, the other clutching and raking his balls. He grabbed her shirt at the small of her back and he pulled it up and over her head, she bowed to him, her arms extending so he could pull it off. He threw it to the floor, saw her fumbling for something under the pillow, saw it revealed, saw a black bottle of lube.

  “Oh, Nia,” he sighed, seeing his dirty, sex-prepared wife. He pulled his shirt off, up on his knees now, while Nia popped the cap. Her hand was stroking him, and he buckled feeling her wonderful, delicate hand. She stroked him, up and down his shaft, quick little strokes, her other slick hand working his balls while he climbed on her, pushed her back, his kisses on her neck and collar, til her head was on the pillow. She stroked him, her masterful grip feeling so incredible, while he kissed his way to her nipples, plucked them both, pulled them, felt their hard corrugated feel, felt the texture of her arousal.

  “Okay, Geoff, please, make love to me...”


  Her hands had gone to herself, both of her long, pretty hands were smoothing the lube over the folds of her mound, working the slickness into her. “Careful, baby...careful.”

  “Okay,” he whispered, lowering his hips between her spread legs, feeling his wife’s hand taking his hardness and guiding it to her opening. His tip pressed her sweet folds, parting them, and she moaned; excitement and a little pain.

  “You okay?” he whispered.

  “Yeah, baby, go slow.”

  He reeled a moment in the realization. He had to be careful with his wife because she was sore from rough and vigorous sex with her lover. Her huge, incredibly strong, and massively endowed lover. Geoff ached inside her, his cock throbbed. All from thinking how this beautiful space he loved between her legs had been defiled, spread by another man.

  “Ah,” he gasped with pleasure as he eased himself slightly deeper. That man had made his wife come three times a few nights ago. Taken her and split her with his manhood.

  “Did he make you scream?”

  “Geoff...”

  “Did he make you crazy?”

  “Yess-ss...”

  “That’s so hot, Nia...can you even feel me now?”

  “Don’t, Geoff, not tonight, baby, just love me...”

  “I do love you, baby, I love you so much.”

  “Ah, Geoff, that’s it, that’s what I need. I feel you...I feel every inch of you,” she said and her hand smoothed his back, rubbing him between his shoulder blades while he eased himself into her, gave her just about all his length, then eased himself back out.

  “Geoff, you feel so good,” she whispered in his ear.

  “You do too, baby,” he sighed to her collar. He made love to her so softly, easing himself into her injured sex, feeling her flinch when it hurt, feeling her hips pull back when his intrusion stung her, but she kept him hard, kept him breathing heavy, making soft squeaky Nia noises in his ear, lightly scratching his back, squirming her incredible body against his. Rocco had felt this joy, this living breathing gift to the universe. He didn’t appreciate it. That fucking gorilla didn’t think of her more than a dirty fuck behind his wife’s back. His poor Maria could never compete with this perfect woman writhing under him right now. She was warm and beautiful and funny and loving and she had a bright shining soul. Rocco just saw her pink hole and he shoved his thick flesh club into it, fucked her, made her feel good, treated her like a dirty whore. Ah fuck, he had come on her face and in her mouth. God, she was so fucking bad, she was so dirty. What did that look like, did she smile, did she hold her mouth open and wait for it or was it a surprise? Did she laugh when he came, surprised by his eruption, did she run her fingers through it like she'd done the other night with his seed when he’d spilled it on her belly? Oh fuck, fuck...he had to see her...had to watch her with another man...a big man...watch her come...watch her face when he slid his size into her body...

  “Ah, baby, oh, sorry,” he gasped feeling himself spurting inside her, trying to hold it back but then realizing there was no stopping, then it bubbled and leaked inside her, ruined. He felt ashamed, felt inadequate.

  “That’s it Geoff, I need it, baby, I need to feel your come inside me Geoff, baby...baby, that’s what I wanted...you gave it...to me…”

  18

  Station 455

  Thursday, July 20th

  GEOFF

  Nia had never got dressed again after they made love last night. She’d cuddled her naked body against his, made him feel wonderful. Like best friend Nia who needed his Geoff-space. But that meant the world outside had got painful again. She was bad Nia when she stepped down those steps from the kitchen and got in the Volvo. She was doing bad things. It aroused him so much.

  She was tipping the scale. Tipping it to where it sat twelve years ago. Friend Geoff, watching idly as the girl of his dreams lived a crazy life and he waited for her, waited to be the one to care for her. She was getting there again. Getting dominant, taking the upper hand...no longer his beautiful wife who helped run his little drawing business out of their garage and bore him a daughter, and cooked and cleaned, stayed in her PJs most of the day. Occasionally all day. She was young, strong Nia again, he could feel it...her testosterone was probably higher than his. Her presence these days suppressed his own. He was submitting to her desire for badness. This time, though, encouraging it, feeding it, and, the best part, the part that put the butterflies in his tum, she was coming to him when she was done, just like she used to but now she was all his. He had her. When she told him what she’d done they could be naked. He could hold her to him. They were more than best friends now...

  The alarm buzzed from the bedside table. He roused her. She was aware of the alarm’s call, but he turned and shut it off, quietly pressing the button down on the top. He held her instead and rocked her gently, whispered, “Wakey, wakey.”

  She moaned, then gave a grunt of displeasure at having to get up. She was against him, her cheek pressed to his chest with her hand tucked under her chin, he had his arm around her warm body.

  He whispered, “Thanks for last night...you made me feel like a man. You always make me feel good.”

  “You make me feel good,” she mumbled.

  It was dark in the room at this early hour. Still nighttime outside, a dawning blue minutes away. He ran his hand over her sleepy head, smoothed back her thick black hair.

  She sensed him, sensed his tension in his touch. She said, “I’ll tell you, Geoff, in time...I will...”

  “It was weird, huh?”

  She nodded her chin on his chest, making eye contact this time, not shying away. The not-knowing, the what-ifs were killing him in the most delightful way. His imagination was working overtime trying to picture what was so bad she was ashamed to talk about. What had Rocco done to her?

  He said, “You’ll do it again though? More than just your hands...”

  “We will...I think we will...”

  “Can you tell me something...not-so-bad...that you liked?”

  She inhaled deeply, thought about it. “Ummm. His size,” she sighed. Then quickly, “Not his dick...I mean him, his body...”

  “You liked that a lot?”

  “Yeah. He’s so big. So strong. He makes me feel like nothing.”

  Geoff squeezed her to him tight and he growled, “I’m pretty strong too you know...”

  She grunted, laughed, said, “I know you are baby, you’re so strong.” She pretended to struggle with him, pretended she couldn’t get out of his grip.

  He laughed now too and he rocked her in his clenched arms, said, “You can’t get away from me.”

  “I don’t want to,” she said, and she rolled over top of him as if he’d thrown her, her body tumbling over his hip so she was on the other side of him now, looking up at him. She kissed him. She put a palm to his cheek, said, “I felt your boner poke me.”

  “Sorry,” he smiled.

  “I’ve got to get in the shower, baby.”

  “What if I just take you?”

  She raised her eyebrows up in the middle, gave him a dubious smirk.

  He put a hand up her middle and he grabbed a warm, soft breast. She laughed, rolled from him, tried to scurry herself down the bed and he grabbed her ankles, held her from leaving. She was laughing and he climbed up her legs now, kissing the backs of them as he made his way up. She let him. Pretended again to struggle, rocking her hips and gently kicking her legs. She pulled the duvet up under her chest and looked over her shoulder at him, watched him while he kissed her bare legs. “Oh, you’re so rough, Geoff, please don’t hurt me...”

  He laughed against her skin as he kissed her. His breaths soughing the soft smooth part of her thigh just at the curve of her rump. He kissed around a bruise she had there.

  “That tickles,” she laughed.

  He sighed, thinking of her separate from him, getting treated roughly, alone with another man in a hotel room. She was too good for that.

  “Nia...”


  “What?” she asked over her shoulder.

  “I’m going to watch next time.”

  She laughed, said, “How Geoff?”

  “I’ll hide.”

  “Where would you hide?”

  “We can...have a closet built.”

  She said, “We could buy a wardrobe.”

  “One big enough for me to fit in,” he agreed.

  She laughed, “We can test it out in the store...” then, to an imaginary salesperson, “Yes, it’s very nice...can we just see if my husband can sit in there comfortably?”

  “I’d ask if they had one that came with a view hatch.”

  “Like a porthole?”

  “Right. Or I could hide under the bed.”

  “Eek. But you couldn’t see...Plus baby, Rocco is heavy and he...he’s vigorous. What if we broke it and it fell on you?”

  “What a way to go,” he said, screwing his mouth up.

  “Very embarrassing,” she agreed, demurely, cautiously joking with him.

  “What would you tell my mom and dad?”

  “I was fucking my boss and Geoff was listening under the bed, jerking it.”

  “Jerking it? You wouldn’t say that to my mom.”

  “I wouldn’t have to.”

  He laughed out loud, hugged her thighs and he kissed her bare bottom. Kissed it over and over, working to her crack.

  “What’s with all the butt stuff recently, Geoff?” she giggled.

  “Is it bad?”

  “No. It’s good,” she said, slowly, her voice curling up at the end.

  “It’s like...a hidden part of you. Like I just found this secret room in the house I’ve been living in for twelve years, and I want to explore it...wondering the whole time...how did I not know this was here?”

  “What if it’s haunted?”

  “That’s a great way to make me stay away...”

  “Fraidy cat...it’s not haunted...”

  He kissed her along her gentle curve, then along the back of her thighs and inside them moving himself up to her most sensitive area. He heard her moan and felt her quiver but her legs didn’t part.