by JT Harding
“Storm coming,” Joe said.
“Ayuh,” Kim said and they both laughed. She had been raised in New England, but no-one would guess unless she wanted them to.
When they came back into the house they tucked Ami, still sleeping, into her cot then lay under a single sheet, listening as the wind gathered strength and worried around the house. The waves sounded louder and thunder came more frequently. Neither of them wanted to sleep, but they didn’t want sex either so they lay side by side, chastely holding hands, listening as wind spattered the first raindrops against the open bedroom window.
“The rain’s going to come in,” Joe said. “I should get up and close the window.”
“Leave it. Nothing’s going to spoil.”
They fell silent again. Rain came more persistently and the room cooled. Kim rolled over and hugged herself against Joe, her hand cradling his balls.
“Joe?”
Thunder rolled and he waited for the sound to fade. “Mm-hm?”
“I wasn’t joking before.”
“About what?”
“There’s something about that woman, Joe. I’ve never been turned on by anyone except you. Why is that?”
“She doesn’t know how incredible she is, does she.”
“Mm... We’ve joked about this before, Joe, but I’m not joking now.” Kim’s fingers were stroking his balls, and even though he didn’t want sex his cock responded.
“Tell me what you want, Kim,” Joe said, the subject of their conversation exciting him.
“We’re going to kill each other if we don’t stop.” Kim rolled on top of him, slid down so his cock entered her. She lay flat against him, hardly moving, her lips against his shoulder. Joe felt her nipples harden against his chest, her breasts flatten.
“You know I love you,” Joe said.
Kim chuckled. “I want to... I want to fuck her, Joe,” she said, and it was out in the open, her voice sounding a little shocked.
“Me too, babe, me too.”
“You do?”
This time Joe laughed. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”
“A little, yeah. You don’t mind I want to fuck another woman?”
“I guess I’m supposed to.”
“You are. So what would you do if I fucked her?”
“Do you want me to mind?”
“I need to know, Joe. I can’t tell you what to feel.”
“Is it what you want, Kim. Do you really want to fuck her?”
Kim was moving against him now, slowly, softly, but she was tight around his cock and he knew she was going to make him come eventually, make him come like she always managed whether he was in the mood or not, he was so crazy in love with her she was capable of making him do anything she wanted.
“I think I do.”
“It’s not just some… I don’t know, some infatuation? You’ve never shown interest in women before.”
“I’ve never told you, Joe.”
“You have?”
She wriggled. “You still haven’t answered my question. How would you feel about it if I fucked Jenni?”
“Depends.”
“Depends on what?” Kim’s voice had grown soft and despite his cock lying rigid inside her pussy he felt her body loosen against him.
“If I can fuck her too.”
Kim’s mouth formed a smile against his shoulder. “As well as, or together? I think I like the idea of all that.”
Joe laughed softly. “Who are we kidding? She’s probably not interested.” Joe grasped Kim’s ass in his hands, encouraging her to move a little faster but she teased, responding by going completely slack on top of him. Her passivity aroused him even more and he felt his cock harden painfully inside her.
“Oh, she’s interested,” Kim said. “A girl can tell these things. So can you. Trust your instincts. She’s interested, Joe.” Kim’s voice was soft, slurred, her body loose as she lay against him. Her bones were melting, muscle dissolving.
“Do you want to fuck right now?” Joe asked. He was rigid inside her, encased inside the slick warmth of her pussy.
“No, not really. But it’s nice like this.” Kim squirmed against him.
Joe stroked her back as she loosened further. Thunder sounded close to, and Kim jerked as it brought her awake but almost instantly Joe felt her drift again. Her mouth opened where it lay against his shoulder and saliva dribbled on to his chest. She began to snore softly against his skin and Joe smiled into the dark and let his hand rest in the small of her back. He was still hard but knew any chance of real sex was gone. That was fine, because this was good too, so comfortable with Kim sleeping on top of him, her body molded against his. Every now and then she mumbled and her hips moved, as though she dreamt of what they might be doing.
The storm came in full force. Rain lashed the windows and Joe heard it spatter on the floor, but Kim was right, nothing would spoil. Thunder crashed overhead and Kim stirred again. Joe took the opportunity to ease her body off his. His cock slid from inside her, cooled as air caressed it, and he rolled Kim on her side and spooned around her, his cock lying stiff along the crack of her ass, his hand wrapped around to cup her breast and eventually sleep claimed him as well.
***
Mark woke Jenni as he returned home, late and drunk, stumbling around the bedroom while he let his clothes fall wherever he managed to get out of them. He fell into bed beside her in his shorts and reached across without a word. This was how they had sex now, as though he needed to get himself drunk enough to want her.
Jenni tried to ignore him, tried to feign sleep, but Mark didn’t care whether she was conscious or not. Jenni turned her head aside as he climbed onto her, not even bothering to pull his shorts down. He fumbled his cock through the elastic of his shorts and pushed her legs apart. She was dry, but it hardly mattered because his cock was slim and he forced himself into her, humping rapidly, coming fast and rolling away.
He fell asleep in moments, and when she was sure Mark was comatose Jenni slipped from their bed and went along the hall to the bathroom, washed the evidence of his anger away. Anger it was, she knew. There was no love in what Mark did to her.
Jenni had gone on the pill after the episode with Paul, not wanting to take any chances, knowing Mark would go wild if she fell pregnant. Truthfully, she did not want Mark’s child now. A child, yes, but not his. Jenni was also honest enough to admit to herself that the pill was an acknowledgment she was going to repeat the betrayal of her marriage. The act of taking the small daily pill permission to herself.
She sat on the edge of the bath, hearing the storm batter around the house and made a resolution. She would leave him, if that was possible. As soon as the thought came she felt better, smiling into the mirror, smiling at the pretty woman sitting across from her that couldn’t be her because Mark kept telling her she was ugly, so someone else must have crept into the house and taken her place. Good. Maybe it meant she could sneak out without being missed.
Chapter 8
“Mark, get out of bed or you’re going to be late for work!” Jenni shouted up the stairs. She could have added: Again.
Lately Mark seemed not to care whether he his job was there or not. He might work for himself, but the few customers who still came to him would soon drift away if he was never there when they called. Well, if he didn’t care, Jenni did. They had little enough money coming in, and what Mark earned he drank half of. If not for the cleaning and laundry Jenni did they wouldn’t have food on the table. Mark still expected food on his table. His table; according to Mark everything was his stuff, nothing hers.
Jenni returned to the kitchen and cracked two eggs in the pan she had fried bacon. The eggs spat and crackled, bubbling around the yolk the way Mark liked them. Jenni preferred her eggs soft; she had no idea how Mark could eat them like this, burned beyond all taste, but she knew if she tried to change things she’d earn a slap, or worse.
She turned the eggs over, slid them on a plate next to the bacon, started a new p
an for pancakes. Still no sign of Mark. She slid the pan off the heat and shouted upstairs again. No answer. She made her way up. He might not care his job, but she did!
Jenni found him lying in bed. Jacking off. She stood in the door and he grinned at her, unabashed, frantically rubbing his small cock.
“Want some, sweetheart?” Mark’s voice shook with the effort of his movement.
Jenni turned on her heel and stamped down the stairs. How dare he! If he wanted sex why didn’t he ask her? She had never said no, would never say no. Sex was one of the pleasures she treasured, one of the aspects of her life she recalled in memory rather than reality. Good sex, anyway. Who the hell was he thinking about, on his own, in their bed? Not her, for damn sure.
She put the pan back on the stove and cooked three pancakes the way he liked them.
Why am I doing this? The thought ran like fire through Jenni’s head. Mark was upstairs jacking off and she stood down here making him breakfast, same as she did every morning. Is this what he did while she fried bacon?
Well fuck him, she thought, and tipped the contents of the pan into the garbage. He can make his own breakfast. Pulling on her jacket Jenni left the house, grabbing Joe’s book from the hall stand, slamming the door hard, making sure Mark knew she was gone.
Jenni knew she was going to pay for this minor act of rebellion later. Mark would come in drunk and pick a fight, any excuse or no excuse at all, take it as reason enough to start knocking her around. She jumped in her beat up truck and waited while the engine turned over, sounding as it always did as though it wasn’t going to start. But it always did – eventually. She drove through town and beyond, toward to the beach. Getting an early start on the cleaning might give her time to see Joe and Kim for lunch. Just the thought brought warmth to her belly where a moment before had been cold anger.
***
It was a little after one as Joe watched Jenni walk from the house next door. Joe and Kim had gone into town earlier, returned with bags of groceries, holding off preparing lunch, hoping Jenni would arrive. Her pickup was parked in its usual place, so they knew she was around somewhere.
Joe heard her knock on the porch side and Jenni dropped a checked bag containing clean linen on the boards. Another identical bag with the old sheets and towels was already waiting for her to take away, Joe thinking again about what might run through Jenni’s mind as she washed them, seeing the stains his semen had left on the sheets, the dampness from Kim, the soured smell of breast milk that flowed too copiously.
Joe leaned against the porch rail as Kim came out and kissed Jenni. Kim stood back and looked Jenni openly up and down.
“Looking good, girl,” Kim said, and Jenni blushed. It was obvious she had made an effort, crisp cotton shorts to her knees, white linen blouse unbuttoned half way to display the same black bikini top that seemed the only one she possessed, her skin tanned, glowing against the white linen.
“You look good too.” Joe saw Kim simper a little, because she knew she did. Joe thought she was being deliberately decadent, wearing the gauzy blue cover-up from the day before, tied above breasts unencumbered by any other covering. The flimsy polyester hid nothing, Kim’s breasts on clear display and her dark nipples obvious. She had told Joe she was going to wear nothing at all under the cover-up, but relented when he said that was probably too much too soon, so a pair of tiny white bikini briefs covered her... just.
“We haven’t eaten yet if you want to join us,” Kim said. “Or are you and Joe going swimming first?”
“I don’t know. What do you think, Joe?”
“I don’t think he can wait,” Kim answered for him. “He’s been like a puppy all morning.”
“Have not.”
Kim gave him a glance that said she didn’t believe him, and Jenni laughed. “Are you two always like this?”
“Oh no,” Kim said. “Sometimes I tease him a little.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Joe said, and as he brushed past Jenni lifted his hand and let it trail against her shoulder. “If you’re ready, that is.”
“Sure. Let me get these off.” Jenni unbuttoned the rest of her top, folded it neatly and placed it on the bleached table. She unzipped her shorts and let them drop, bent from the waist in the same way Joe had seen yesterday, flexible and unstrained, picked the shorts off the floor and folded them next to her top. She turned and joined Joe, magnificent in her beauty, body gleaming and glowing, hair falling in russet curls over her shoulders. She put her hand beneath its weight and drew it all over one shoulder, a habit Joe had seen her do more than once as they walked back along the beach.
“Enjoy yourselves,” Kim said. “Lunch when you get back. Don’t be more than an hour.”
Joe waved his hand without looking back and broke into a jog, pleased when Jenni matched him. He glanced across, drawn to the sight of her breasts rising and falling with each stride. The bikini top was tiny, its black cotton stretched tight over her large breasts, the straps cutting lines in her shoulder as the weight of them fell on each step. Joe tried to hold back so he could study the way her ass moved in the non-matching gray briefs but Jenni looked back at him and grinned.
“Eyes front, soldier.”
Joe blushed. He increased his pace and passed her easily, heard her laugh and then his feet were in the surf, the waves big after the storm, the sky still scudded with cloud but the air was warm and the sea felt good against his legs. As soon as the water was deep enough he dove in, the tug of a breaker passing over him, surfaced and shook water from his eyes, his too long hair flicking drops around him.
He pulled himself out through the breakers until the water calmed. The waves still came in as big as ever, but out here they were no more than a steady rise and fall, lifting his body, dropping him back into each trough. Jenni stroked toward him with an easy crawl, hair streaking along her back, face lifting to one side as she breathed.
She reached him and trod water, three feet between them.
“I like to swim way out, Joe.”
“How far?” He looked into her eyes.
“Way out. I like going too far.” She stared back, a faint smile playing on her kissable lips. Joe wanted to drift across and pull her against him, wasn’t sure if he did she would offer any resistance. He shivered involuntarily and shook his head, making out he was clearing spray from his face.
“Me too. Is it going to be a race?”
Jenni shook her head. “I don’t think so, do you? We can take as long as we like.” This time there was no mistaking the intention behind her words. She twisted into a crawl and deliberately brushed past him. As she touched him she turned on her side, as though rolling with the stroke, but the movement brought her firm breast sliding along his flank, her hip followed and finally the silky length of her thigh.
Joe rolled and followed close behind, tempted to reach out and grab her ankle, pull her back against him. Some faint remnant of reserve prevented him. He drifted to one side, trying to keep a distance between them, trying to reduce the temptation.
The ocean cooled as they stroked further from land. Jenni swam well, her movements economic, perfect body sliding through the water as though this medium belonged to her. Joe kept pace, almost equally at home, but he made a splash where Jenni parted the water, he needed to exert more effort, but because he was stronger he was faster than Jenni and after a while he put his head down and pulled ahead.
When he stopped, breathing hard, he looked back and found the shore was now a half mile distant. The swell carried his body with it, remorseless, not caring about such meager beings as he and Jenni.
A strong current plucked at Joe’s feet and when Jenni reached him he said, “Is there an undertow out here?”
“A little.” He was glad to see Jenni breathing almost as hard as him. “It’s fine right now, but can get bad when the tide turns. Don’t worry, we’ll be back by then.”
“I didn’t even think about the tide. When does it turn?”
“Couple of ho
urs yet.” The swell and current caused Jenni to drift away, and she casually reached across and placed her hand on his shoulder to maintain her position. Joe’s concentration centered on her touch, the curl of her fingers across his skin. “The water’s cold this far out.”
“Are you okay?” Joe asked.
“Fine.” Jenni nodded. “I didn’t mean I wanted to go in. I like the cold – it make me feel alive.” The swell rose, pushing her toward him. Her breasts touched his chest. Then the sea dragged her back and her fingers tightened on his shoulder to stop herself drifting away. “How about you? Do you swim in the ocean much? I don’t even know if you can where you come from.”
Joe laughed as the current drew her back to him and her nipples dimpled against his skin (only the cold, he thought, making them that rigid), and this time her leg brushed his, brushed between his thigh as though an accident and Joe knew she had felt how his cock was thick inside his trunks. She was drifting again and this time he put his hand on her arm, high up near the top, as though helping her stay close.
“I swim in the ocean when I get the chance, but we’re from New York, and the Hudson’s not so good for swimming. The ocean near us is as cold as a witch’s tit. But we’ve got a pool at home so I swim every day.”
“You look like a swimmer.” The water brought Jenni back to him, her belly against his, her breasts flattening on his chest and her other hand touching his waist, holding them together.
“What does a swimmer look like?” Joe asked. His cock ached, Joe afraid it would slip from the leg of his trunks, didn’t know if that would be good or bad.
“Slim, muscular, not all beefed up. Good.”
“I guess you look even better than that,” Joe said.
Jenni smiled. “Why Joe, was that a compliment?”
“Sure.”
“So sweet,” Jenni said, and this time when the swell brought her against him she grinned and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Joe, but I know damn well I’m not a quarter as beautiful as Kim.”
