Cherry Blossoms: A Losing His Wife Novel

by KT Morrison

  Then a foreign sound outside in the alley. Unfamiliar, out of place. A truck. The rattle of a diesel motor, idling low, all torque and power, restrained, held back, trembling under the surface, waiting for a foot to feed it some pedal. Rocco? Rocco and Nia? His heart started working overtime again. Okay.

  The truck sound came close...it didn’t pass. The fan’s motor whirred, a loud high whine. Pulling right up to the wall of his studio, just an arm’s length away.

  There was the click of the ignition, the motor dropped its heavy, mechanical clacking and fell silent. A truck door opened, right outside the wall. Soft dinging, a reminder of an open door. Another door opened, the passenger door, closer to the studio entrance.

  Geoff was sitting in the hidden corner of his studio, on his leather couch, away from the windows, away from the front door to the studio. He clutched the baby monitor to his chest, his arms wrapped right around it. Footsteps, right outside, two people walking through the gravel of the short driveway up to the side of the garage that led from the wide alley.

  It was sunny outside and he flinched when there was a flicker of a shadow across the painted concrete floor. Two figures, stretched and deformed like carnival reflections, one shadow much bigger than the other. The steps passed along past the front door of his studio and he rose to follow them, getting up and crossing softly, following along with them in his silent moccasins. Footsteps outside, out of the gravel now, high heels clicking on the patio stones between the wall of the studio and the house. He walked with them, to the back door of his studio, the one that led to the path that went up the stairs to the kitchen. He stopped at his back door. He saw them then. Nia, up front, walking to their front door. She was dressed all in black, her skirt above her knee, a black blouse, slim-fitting and short sleeved. Her heels clicked up the concrete steps to their kitchen. Right behind her was Rocco. The big man that was her boss. His wife was going to fuck her boss in their bedroom in the middle of the day. A quick lunchtime fuck, cheating on her stupid husband with her macho lover. Rocco stomped up his steps, confident, his massive body heaving up to the kitchen in his construction boots. He was so big next to his wife. So muscular and strong. Two steps down from the top of the flight and he was as tall as his Nia. He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. His arms were thick and muscular, all tattooed, his sleeves were cut off, the edges frayed. He looked like the kind of man his wife would cheat on him with. Nia worked the key in the lock, even though he knew he’d left it unlocked. Did it for Rocco’s benefit. Nia showing him the house was empty. Then she went in and he followed. She was in their house with another man. She was going to fuck him in their bed.

  “Holy shit, Nia,” he gasped. This was unreal. He held his hand out and steadied himself on the corner of a worktable. His heart hammered out of control, his ears rushing with the sounds from his pounding ventricles. “Oh, fuck me, Nia,” he whispered.

  He sat down in his chair and he looked at the ceiling. He breathed heavily; heard his breaths, hoarse, subitaneous.

  “Oh Nia, Nia, Nia,” he hummed. He held the baby monitor out, lay it in his lap. He turned it on.

  GEOFF

  The baby monitor was flat and white, a seven-inch screen that showed Odele’s bed in ultra High Definition. He could split screen it, there were two cameras in the room. He’d bought this online when Odele was born, bought two cameras in case they had another baby, which was sort of the plan seven years ago. He’d bought the best baby monitor he could find. When she was born, and still to this day really, she was instantly the most precious thing that would ever exist. He wanted to keep an eye on her every waking minute, even when he was hard at work, drawing all-day-every-day (for half of what he was making now). So he bust that wallet wide and he spent close to a thousand dollars on equipment that would be a virtual umbilical between daughter and daddy. No matter where he went he carried that monitor around the house. It had a range of about six-hundred feet and he would guess, for a few years at least, he was never more than that distance from her.

  He never imagined back then the use it would be put to today. He watched the screen now, watched it for any movement. Nia and Rocco were in the house, heading upstairs. How would she get one of the cameras into the bedroom without Rocco noticing? Did she have a plan? She should have had him move the cameras before they got here.

  There was movement on the screen, the curtain rustling. The curtain rustled when you opened Odie’s door. She was going in now. He saw Nia come into the frame, walking from the left, standing by Odie’s bed, the white sheer princess veil a hazy gauze behind her. He’d attached that curtain (really just a camping mosquito tent but he’d never tell O), from the ceiling and it hung down and surrounded her bed on all sides, made his little girl feel safe. She’d gone through a brief period where she was afraid of what might be behind the creaky closet door in her room. It didn’t last long, she got over it fast, and Geoff always thought it was his protective veil that had done the trick. Keep the bad things away, Odie, keep you safe.

  Odie’s veil was violently whisked away. A big, muscular hand grabbing a handful and yanking an opening in it. Rocco was in the room with Nia. Geoff’s breath chugged. They were going to fuck in Odie’s room.

  “Oh no, Nia,” he moaned, watching still. Not in Odie’s room. He could see them from their heads to their knees, not their faces; saw them standing and talking at the side of the bed. He turned the speaker louder so he could hear what they said, made sure the two-way was not on.

  “...fuckin hot...” Rocco was saying, his voice a low growl.

  Nia gasped in agreement, high and breathy.

  Geoff tapped the icon on the top of the menu that brought the display to a split screen. The other camera was in the corner of the room, up high, looking down on the action. He could see them in their awful entirety. Rocco was standing facing her at the side of Odie’s bed. He’d pulled her veil away so they could lay on it but right now they were touching each other. Moving their hands over each other’s bodies.

  Nia looked frightened, her face turned up to watch him, her eyebrows turned up, worried, her mouth agape. Her hands went over his chest and his shoulders and down his arms. Rocco had his hands on Nia. Seeing them, the size of them, on his wife hit him in his heart, knocked the wind right out of him. Rocco had big hands, they were strong and so masculine. Big, thick fingers and swollen joints, his thumb joint was pronounced and large, giving the spread of his hand a massive breadth. They dwarfed Nia’s body. He ran them over her, roughly grabbing her breasts through her top, over her shoulders, grabbing her sides, over her rump. One hand went down her thigh and ripped forcefully up under her skirt, grabbing a handful of the flesh between her thighs and making her shout out and come up on her tip-toes. He kissed her but she pulled away, turned her head, and his mouth went to her neck. She held herself steady with both her hands up on the bulging, hunched muscles between his shoulders and neck.

  “Fuckin body...” he growled in admiration.

  Nia did have a beautiful body.

  Rocco grabbed the bottom of Nia’s shirt, untucked it, roughly shaking her. Nia gasped and clamoured, but he pulled it up her body, bared her bra and her tummy, then pulled it up over her head. When he got it almost off, so it was around her face, the neck hole pressed tightly across her, just below her nose, he bunched it behind her, grabbed two fistfuls of fabric and then tied it tightly behind the back of her head. Nia grunted and complained, said, “Ow, oh,” her hand coming up and feeling how he’d blindfolded her. Just her pretty mouth was exposed.

  Her hair spilled over her shoulders, her dark red lipstick lips opened softly, her white teeth parted, expectant. Rocco held her firmly with one hand behind her head, her hair and the shirt pinched in his grip. Nia’s hand grabbed at his arm, like he was hurting her. He bit her neck, and she cried a vociferous complaint. His other hand grabbed her wrist, pulled her slender arm down between his legs and Geoff could see, from the side view camera, her long fingers search blindly around u
ntil Rocco shoved her wrist so her hand grabbed a handful of his denim bulge. Nia’s hand grabbed it through the fabric, turned so she could follow his shaft underhanded and squeeze him. Rocco still bit at her neck, kissing down her chest. He shoved her back and turned her roughly around, Nia staggering on her heels, arms out to steady herself. Geoff moaned watching his poor girl, watching what turned her on.

  Rocco unclasped her bra, pulled the straps down her shoulders, threw it to the floor. His hands went around to her front and he grabbed her hanging breasts; Geoff could see from the side camera on the dresser, he had handfuls of her flesh in his iron grip. Squeezing her far too hard. He had Nia gasping, her mouth wide open, her blindfolded face tilted to the ceiling. Her nipples were hard and tight, the tips like bursting buds, her sensitive flesh there condensing and stretching away from her body. Geoff wished he could be with her, put them in his mouth. Soothe them, hold her and tell her this would all be okay. Rocco hugged her, her back to his chest, his big arms squashing her lithe body against his. His right hand yanked up the front of her skirt and Nia spread her legs for him. His hand slipped in under her black panties, stretched them right out with the size of his hand. He was stroking his wife between her legs. Probably one of those huge fingers going up and down her lips there, maybe slipping inside her. Nia’s hands grasped his forearm, his muscles writhing under the dragons as his hand did things between Nia’s legs that had her moaning now.

  Geoff rubbed his face, looked away for a moment. He wanted this so bad, had dreamed of watching this but now, in front of him, it was too much. He liked it, he hated it, it made him hard. It was all tinged with a horrible dread. They weren’t just fucking, this wasn’t just sex. He feared for his wife. This big man was rough. She wanted it but what if he went too far? He didn’t want one more bruise on her perfect fucking body. Seeing Rocco’s rough hands on her was exciting but he also felt like grabbing a baseball bat and smashing him, making him pay for hurting her.

  “Don’t you hurt her,” he whispered, and he traced a line on the screen along her bare tummy with his dry, lifeless forefinger.

  Rocco took her by her shoulders, turned her to the dresser and he shoved her to it. Nia stumbled in her heels until her thighs and knees hit it then she fell over it at the waist. The side camera was sitting on this dresser and her banging into it jostled it, blurred it momentarily. He could see from the top view camera Rocco was stalking behind her. He took his shirt off and Geoff got a good look at all the bulging muscles of his back. Nia was bent over Odie’s dresser in front of him. Topless, her skirt askew but still covering her, she was in her heels. She’d bent over the waist-high kid’s dresser, in painted pink with pale scrolls done in a fine brush by Geoff’s own hand above all the handles. He could see her face reflected in the mirror above the dresser, shirt clamped over her nose and eyes, mouth open, head tilted over her shoulder trying to sense what her monstrous lover would force her to do next.

  Rocco was unzipping his jeans, the brass teeth unclenching, audible even through the monitor. He pulled them down his thighs and walked behind her.

  There was that cock. Not hard yet, but aroused. Massive and uncircumcised, so heavy it hung and swung between his legs, bobbing and dancing, trying to lift itself up but struggling. He was behind Nia now, grabbing his cock by his base and holding his big balls too, slapping the end of it on Nia’s rump over top of her skirt. She looked around, not knowing what he was doing. Geoff chewed his lip, his brow tensing, his jaw clenching.

  “Oh, Nia, no...”

  Rocco took her wrist, grabbed it right where it met her hand and he yanked her arm back behind her, twisting it and pulling. He slapped his cock into her palm and Nia’s hand tried to clutch it. He kept slapping her hand with it, banging his big cock into her palm and over the backs of her wriggling fingers; she caught it finally, grasped it and clutched it tightly, and Rocco held it still, let her feel it, let her stroke it lightly. It was so big in her feminine little grip. So ugly. Dark brown and wrinkled, yawning foreskin stretching and pouting as Nia stroked it. He shoved her hips aside, and he got himself with his thighs pressed to the dresser next to her, shoved her arm out of the way, pulled her by the shirt over her head until her face was at his genitals.

  Geoff could see it now in full view, they were right in front of the camera on the dresser. Rocco’s hand, very big hand, held his half hard cock and his balls, still looking large even in that hand. His balls were squashed up against his shaft, his cock stuck out straight then curved down by its weight. He was pushing it into Nia’s open mouth. He couldn’t see it from the dresser camera but he could see his wife taking it in past her lips from the above view. He was cramming the gummy end of his cock past her parted lips and Nia stretched herself wide to accept him, kissed at him, stuck her tongue out and he slapped himself on it. He took her head then, grabbed a handful of hair and makeshift blindfold and he pressed her head down into the dresser, held her steady and he fucked her open mouth, pushing himself into her waiting maw with his hips, his ass cheeks flexing. He fucked her and she took it, sometimes he would miss and his heavy wet cock would go up her cheek, sometimes it would fall and swing against the dresser. He’d take it back up in a hand and shove it back in Nia’s mouth. He would slap her cheek, he would hold it firmly and jiggle it while it was in her mouth and she let him, didn’t fight it, did nothing but take the humiliation. So close to the camera he could very clearly hear the wet sounds of her pretty mouth being fucked. The crackling sound of lips against gums, the wet sound of his cock on her tongue. Nia made soft moans, partial words being uttered and then stuffed back down her throat. She gasped for air when he pulled out, she snorted through her nose when he was in.

  “Oh fuck, Nia, oh no,” Geoff softly cried, holding the baby monitor in his lap, hunched over it, his hands clutching its borders until its hard plastic edges pinched him painfully. He felt his eyes well with sadness for her. Why was she like this? Why did she like this? There was something wrong with the girl he loved and he was witnessing it. Witnessing it and hating it and loving it all at once. Whatever was wrong with her it was just a small piece and maybe if this little treatment made her well again maybe, just maybe, it was okay. He wanted to hug her and tell her it was all right. He wanted to hug her and hold her while she got fucked the way she liked. Pet her hair and hold her cheeks and kiss her forehead. His eyes swelled and he winced, his vision blurry with a tear. And he squinted hard, so hard, and he raised the monitor to his forehead and pressed it to him. “Ah, Nia,” he sighed. Her desire for her husband to see her like this gave his arousal license. She was admitting her worst to him. She loved him so much she felt like it was all right for her to be seen, really seen. His heart soared suddenly thinking this was a greater gift than she’d given anybody. She might lay with an open mouth and let Rocco fuck it but she wasn’t giving him anything. She was doing this for Geoff. Showing him her darkest self. Trusting he would accept it.

  He could accept it because he loved her. He could white knuckle himself through this, he could watch what she had to show him. He prayed he could. The truth was it was horrible and painful but she was sharing herself with him in a way she had never shared herself with anyone before. She was giving him something she had given no man before. This was his birthday gift. This was the gift of her complete self. “I love you, baby,” he moaned.

  Rocco ripped her skirt up now. Took it in both his big hands and tore it right up over her ass, her bare cheeks exposed to him, the black triangle of her panties curved over her perfect round flesh. He grabbed two handfuls of her ass and he squeezed her harshly, lifted her high heels right up off the ground. Nia cried out again in pain. The panties were torn down her legs next, pulled quickly, making her slender thighs ripple and shake with his force. He pulled them right down to her ankles and they stayed there, Nia’s legs parted, still bent over Odie’s dresser. His thumbs dug deeply into her cheeks and she grunted. Geoff could see from overhead as Rocco peeled her peach open, exposed her anus,
and her stretched out pink labia. He spit between her legs, spit on her sex. Geoff winced. Then Rocco’s face was between her cheeks, his tongue diving up and into his wife. His hands were down below him, he was kneeling between Nia’s legs, untying his boots. He licked and bit at Nia’s pussy, got his boots undone, stood, then kicked them away and he pushed his jeans and underwear down and stepped out of them. Totally naked now in his daughter’s pink princess bedroom.

  “Oh fuck,” he sighed, aroused and saddened, wishing it wasn’t like this but desperate for more, just the same. Rocco prowled the room now. His monstrous cock was hard and it bobbed and wagged. Nia was still bent over the dresser, her skirt pulled up to her waist, her shirt still wrapped around her head. She was looking over her shoulder wondering what he was doing behind her.

  Rocco grabbed Odie’s reading lamp in one big fist and he pulled it off her bedside table, yanked the cord right out of the wall. He tore the shade away and tossed it onto the bed where it bounced and then rolled one half semi-circle. He was stalking behind Nia now, holding the lamp and the cord in the other hand. He ripped the cord right out of the lamp and tossed it to the floor. He stood behind Nia and her head searched over each shoulder, waiting and wondering. Rocco gathered up the white power cord, wrapping it around one fist, watching Nia’s bare ass, her exposed sex. His cock throbbed between his legs, hard now, excited, desperate to plough up inside Nia. He was hairy and massive. Thick coarse pubic hair peppered his base, up his stomach, spread like a coarse wildfire across his massive chest. He looked like he was going to strangle her.

  “Shit, baby,” Geoff whispered.

  Rocco grabbed one of her graceful wrists and he wrenched it up tight behind her, yanked it so it was palm up in the small of her back. Nia clamoured and hissed in pain. He grabbed her other arm and did the same. He unwound the cord, looped it around her wrists held tightly together with one large hand and he tied them up, wrapped them together in a tight knot. He took the two loose ends of his knot and he yanked on them, pulled them nice and tight, making the muscles in his neck and shoulders jump and bounce as he did it. Nia cried out again.