But with every tick of the clock, it felt like chisel was plunging into his happiness, chipping it away.
What was it?
“...I don't want to mess up anything between us,” Rachel finally said.
Josh turned her face toward him. This was it. Surely this was the thing that worried him. He looked deep into her eyes. “That's my priority,” he said. “Always. Okay? I don't want anything to happen here that would make things bad between us. This is just about...experimenting. Okay? If you want to stop, you just tell me. If we feel like it's getting out of control, we just stop. Okay?”
He was surprised that, as he said these words, Rachel's expression changed to a more placid one. She seemed to be comforted by the words.
On the other hand, though he himself had said this with so much conviction in his voice, he didn't believe his own words very much. He realized this as he forced himself to smile and look reassuring to Rachel.
A pain – a deep, profound, pleasurable and horrible pain – twisted in his gut.
What was he doing?
Rachel looked at their hands. “It was pretty hot, wasn't it?”
Josh kissed her ear through her hair. “It was.”
That was true. It was.
“So you...I don't know...you'd be up for me doing it again?”
He felt as if a bottom dropped out of his body and his soul. Like he was falling. He wondered what was wrong with him, so suddenly, after he had dreamed so intensely of getting this very thing.
“Of course I wouldn't. Just...you have to tell me what happens.”
Rachel smiled.
Josh felt as if he were split into two people as he turned toward his wife. There was Josh The Animal, whose cock was getting hard. Josh The Animal, who was kissing his wife passionately on her mouth, speaking to her in low tones. This Josh moved his hands over her body, unzipped her wrinkled dress, slid it up and over her arms. Josh The Animal was hungry for more of his wife; this Josh was talking dirty to her, telling her what he wanted her to do the next time she “saw” Xavier, intimately. This Josh was picturing her mouth on Xavier's cock, her every hole penetrated by Xavier's gigantic cock. This Josh was whispering to her, as he walked her back to the bedroom, that he wanted to see her with Xavier with his own two eyes some day. How hot would that be? So hot.
The other Josh, Rational Josh, had departed his body. Rational Josh screamed at him to stop with his mangled mouth, but there was no stopping Josh The Animal. The man he used to be could only whisper to him how this was all a very, very bad idea.
Josh The Animal, though, was already poised over the lithe body of his beautiful wife, his cock just inches from her abused and sloshing cunt.
There was no talking to or reasoning with that Josh.
19: AFTERMATH
He spent the entire morning in a daze. After making love tenderly, they had fallen asleep early in the evening. They had sweat against each other, writhing and passionate, until they could take no more. They woke up at three am, desperately hungry. They made sandwiches, and laughed at themselves.
If someone had asked Josh how he felt that morning, he would have said fine. Everything was fine.
When they woke up in the morning, they kissed, and he had felt as everything were coming together, lining up perfectly like the pieces of a puzzle. Sex with Rachel was incredible; she seemed content; he didn't feel jealousy or rage, but rather a sense of sharing.
He told himself all the way to the train that he was a lucky man, a man who was about to embark on new adventures with his wife.
Who knew where this could go?
If the two of them were making it work – Tyra and Xavier – then Josh and Rachel could do it as well.
But as the train swung along on the tracks and away from the city, his thoughts began to cloud over.
The more he imagined Rachel moaning and panting with Xavier's prick impaling her, the darker his thoughts became. Mistrust began to breed in his mind like a culture of bacteria on agar: spreading, growing, multiplying into something ugly and repulsive.
Rachel had such good rapport with Xavier. What if she started to trust him more than Josh? After all, Xavier had been the chivalrous one who pursued her, who saved her from the internet dragons and then provided “comfort” to her. Xavier had chosen her, and hunted her...whereas Josh had shared her. He had given her up to another man.
He felt the spasm of his own needs inside of him again.
He had shared his wife.
He had shared his wife. He had deliberately created a situation in which he had basically pushed his wife into the arms of another man. And he both loved and reviled thinking about it. He loved imagining this man degrading her and pummeling her. He loved imagining her screaming in pleasure and writhing in exquisite agony beneath his body, too full of his cock to do anything but pant and tremble in pleasure.
But a new feeling had come with his pleasure: he also hated the thought of Rachel enjoying herself too much. It was something he hadn't given thought to when this was all just a fantasy. He didn't want her seeking comfort and intimacy with Xavier.
And yet isn't that precisely where this would go, if continued?
Josh wasn't entirely comfortable with himself, he realized. He wasn't entirely comfortable with how much he enjoyed, sexually, bestially, what his wife had done. It paired wrongly, like the wrong wine for a meal, with his love for his wife.
Didn't it?
There was the matter of what to do now. It was tearing him in two directions.
Did he really want to go down this path? Give permission to his wife to sleep with Xavier yet again? Were they going to become swingers, real swingers, and start exploring people outside of their own relationship?
Part of the idea enticed him.
Part of it made him a little ill.
His psyche began to split into two again. He felt the division in his body, almost as if it were real.
He tried to focus on work when he arrived. He was behind his deadlines.
All day long, no matter what he tried, his thoughts inevitably turned to his wife, to Xavier, to the torturous day he had spent waiting for her to come back from lunch. A certain kind of aroused jealousy had burned through him all day long, even before he knew that she would sleep with Xavier that very same day.
Rachel called in the afternoon to say she would be late getting home. Her voice was tender and she told him she loved him in her message. This was something she rarely said, and she claimed to say it only when she really meant it. She didn't want it to become a form of stale closure that meant nothing at all.
Josh's heart soared to new heights.
Then it plummeted to a new low.
After all, maybe she had lied.
He had no idea how a couple like Tyra and Xavier managed these feelings. He wasn't sure he was cut out for this.
Why was Rachel going to be late?
It wasn't long before he began to imagine scenarios. Began to imagine Rachel calling and leaving a message, while Xavier listened. Imagine her winking at Xavier while she said “I love you.”
His cock ached, and his heart felt like swollen lead.
Did he love this or hate it?
20: THE VIDEO
He found a link to the video on Rachel's filthiest fanclub website.
The room was dark and the first part of the video was mostly sound. The camera had been placed near a bed, looking out at an angle over the expanse of white sheets on the bed. A patch of white-curtained window glowed too brightly in the center of the screen, so at first the two people who entered the room could only be heard. Their bodies were silhouettes, distortions of shadows, nothing more.
They didn't say much. It seemed to happen exactly as Rachel said. The red of her dress gave a vague outline of her body against the wall, Xavier's black skin against her.
They moaned. His arms moved and his hands were undoubtedly delving into the very private parts of his wife's body. But it couldn't be seen well, only hinted
at.
Suddenly the two figures careened toward the bed. When the window was blocked by their bodies, the camera adjusted for indoor light, and they came into focus. White and black. Rachel's strapless red bra, clinging to her breasts for only a moment before Xavier's large hand grasped the material and tore it away.
Josh watched as his wife opened her mouth and gasped. He watched as Xavier held his own thick meat in his hand and guided it to her opening. Just as she had said. He watched the large, purple-brown slab, bumpy with veins, bow slightly as he pressed into her cunt. She was too tight, Josh realized with his own cum boiling at the base of his cock with the thought. Her pussy had been so tight against the huge cock of Xavier that at first he had been unable to get in.
And then a gasp. Rachel tossed her head backward and closed her eyes tightly as the enormous member slid inside of her, filling her up.
Josh watched as Xavier's body fell toward his wife. Closer, closer, until he was deep inside of her, all of his many inches buried inside her body. Rachel's face was at first twisted in pain, and then she squealed as he slowly drew back and then pushed forward.
He fucked her slowly at first. This was a detail Rachel had never gotten to: Josh and Rachel had come far too early for it to be revealed. Slowly, slowly, Xavier moved his cock in and out of her pussy. Her squeals deepened to moans of pleasure. Xavier's cock was turning shiny and creamy with her gushing pussy juices.
And, Josh realized suddenly, it was right here for the whole internet to see.
But he couldn't tear his eyes from the scene. He couldn’t break with the vision of Xavier's cock burying itself over and over again in his wife.
Xavier got her ready, slowly working to her a gushing mess, and then he began to fuck her.
Josh's eyes widened as he watched Rachel come after the first ten or so hard thrusts inside of her. She tossed her head back again and screamed. Blood rushed to her face and she bucked like a wild horse.
But Xavier did not stop there. He continued to pound into her. Maybe he even slammed harder into her. Now that she had come, the sound of her sloshing pussy could be heard over their voices. She was as soaked and sticky as she had ever been. She groaned and her head fell forward. Josh could see that she was balling the sheets up in her hands. She pushed back against him, stretching her arms straight – but more than anything it seemed to be in order to brace herself for the incredible pounding she was getting.
Xavier was slamming so hard into her that his balls were swinging around like great black lead balls, slapping against her cunt and her thighs. His thighs slapped against her ass, and her pussy squelched and slurped as he fucked her, manhandled her, tore her apart with his cock.
Rachel, apparently unable to take any more, fell to her chest. A moan came from her chest, and her head turned back and forth on the sheets. The moan continued, on and on – it could have been pain or pleasure. It sounded animal, submissive, resigned. She could do nothing else but lie there and be fucked now. Her skin was glistening with sweat, and so was Xavier's.
Still, over the moan, came the slap, slap, slap of his thighs against her ass. She had her butt turned up toward him, her arms pressed against he sheets on either side of her head. She was in a posture of ultimate submission, and she was sobbing incomprehensibly now.
“That's it,” Josh heard Xavier breathe, and since Josh had forgotten where he was, he did not jump at the sound from his speakers. “Come again for me.”
And his wife, Josh's wife, did just as he asked. Her moaning turned to wailing, and then to breathless screams. Josh could see the pleasure roll over Xavier's body as her pussy tightened and she screamed into the sheets with her climax.
Then she collapsed again.
Xavier was still not done with her. He grasped her ass with his big hands, and as though she a mere doll, he jerked her toward him as he thrust and thrust deep into her.
Josh watched in horror as he finally leaned back and up, his eyes at the ceiling, and yelled.
He withdrew his cock before he came. He knelt over Rachel and his enormous member spurted rope after rope of cum onto her back. The spurts were full and long: cum fell in Rachel's hair, across her back, onto her turned face.
This might have been all there was to see, but it was not. The horror continued as Xavier, still spurting cum, moved up along the bed, pulling Rachel's body toward him at the same time that he climbed, moving her as though she weighed nothing. His hands went to her head, and he pulled her gently by her hair. Rachel's face lifted up, and her mouth was open. Xavier held his cock in his hand and the two moved closer together: Rachel's mouth, and Xavier's cock, still overflowing with little spurts of cum...
Then the screen went blank.
Josh stared for a moment. He felt severed from his body and the things that were happening to it: his hard cock, his tingling legs, his pounding heart.
His mind floated somewhere else. Some other strange realm.
He grasped the mouse and wriggled it, scrolling down, clicking maniacally.
Where was the rest of it? Surely there was more.
The screen suddenly transformed, subtly at first and then with such violence that Josh, the ever-lucid dreamer, became aware that he was in a nightmare of sorts. The screen began to display large, blinking fonts, all of them screaming that he could make this all go away if only he paid some outrageous sum of money. Then the request turned into a request for a pound of flesh, and then the squiggling words, which by now were swirling and yawning and yelling at him with creepy voices, were demanding that he cut off his cock if he wanted his marriage back.
Josh sat up straight in bed, covered in sweat. He looked down at his cock: evidently the final moments of his nightmare, as disturbing as they had been, had done little to convince his erection to go down. He was turned on, but his heart was racing, pumping gallons of adrenaline into his body. He looked at Rachel. She stirred and waved a hand in his direction. “You okay?” she murmured.
He patted her absentmindedly and threw the covers off. He walked to the guest bathroom, with its tiny, clawed bathtub and the shower curtain that stuck to him if he moved wrong. He took a cold shower and tried to think.
The first part of his dream had been so realistic that it stuck to him like a residue. It wouldn't leave his mind. He panted in the shower, but the adrenaline would not let him rest.
He got out, dried off, and went to the living room to check the internet. So realistic was the dream that he had to see with his own two eyes that her fanclub page had no link to anything like a video.
There were more comments, each lewder than the last, but the only new post was one he had already seen: a picture of Rachel and Xavier in the hotel lobby. Speculation. But no real video.
He wiped his face.
His breathing calmed.
He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head.
He had a feeling, a feeling he knew well, and that was that he had made a terrible mistake. There was no undoing it, no going back in time.
But he could not see going forward with things any further than they already had. As much as he wanted to see Rachel with Xavier, as much as his subconscious demanded it, he knew that it would be a mistake to keep going forward. It would only end badly.
But how to put the breaks on what he had set in motion? How could he get his wife to stop seeing Xavier, when he himself had pushed her into it?
He rubbed his eyes and fought with the reptilian force inside of him, the one he tried to submerge, but the one that was simultaneously thinking:
Or, how could he get everything he wanted?
How could he feed Animal Josh, and end the relationship?
It was an impossible matrix. He should put it out of his mind.
What was the best-case scenario? That's what he needed. It wouldn't be perfect, it wouldn't be everything he wanted, but that's how real-world problems were analyzed.
Think, Josh.
The idea came to him, the way ideas often did:
suddenly, filling his mind, like the water of a tsunami. The water was not there, and then suddenly it was: the idea was not there, and then suddenly it was. All of it.
A way to get everything he wanted.
It was a terrible idea.
It was risky and irresponsible, audacious and crazy.
He shook his head and slammed the laptop down.
He was having crazy thoughts in the middle of the night.
He would never do such a thing.
He returned to his bed and lay face-up, looking at the ceiling, doing his best to count sheep.
His mind, though, had gone to other places. To Planning Stage.
He closed his eyes. This was all just fantasy. Fantasy in the middle of the night.
He would never actually do it.
21: RECKLESS
“This,” Xavier said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, “is a doozy.”
It was almost 100 degrees outside, in early May and the late evening, which was unusual. Rachel watched the sweat drip down Xavier's dark skin, rolling down his solid neck and beneath his shirt, to the hard muscles of his chest.
Which she had seen.
Which she had touched.
And which she really wouldn't mind touching again. She could feel the hot fingers of desire squeezing her between her legs and in her abdomen.
She knew she was outright staring at him, and she also knew he was aware of her stares. He grinned and offered her some of the ice-cold water he had in a Dixie cup. She took it, and took a sip.
“You're doin' it all wrong,” he said. He poured himself another cup and poured it down the back of his neck. Rachel watched with fascination, imagining the water and its path down his delicious body.
Human Interest: A Lead-In To Wife Watching Page 14
