by KT Morrison
“You going to come for me, baby?” she said.
“Agh, ahh,” Tyler blurted and she felt him go rigid inside her. She’d got him so hard doing that she could feel even the flange of his cock head had gone hard.
“Oh, no, Tyler,” she said and she lifted herself off and his cock fell into her waiting hand. She stroked him, her little grip not quite enough to make it around his thick cock. She stroked him fast, just quick pumps up and down his end. He was wet and slippery from her insides and his own leaking. She was on her knees watching her own hand working it fast and light, twisting and squeezing. Her other hand clawed at his stomach. He grunted and buckled, his cock swelled under her fingers and he exploded all over his belly.
“That’s it, baby,” she said, stroking, running her thumb along the channel of his glans, watching his seed squirt from him. He emptied himself in ten pulses, roaring with each, splashing up onto his chest, across her arm, onto his belly and somehow even getting it on her thigh and a drop on her cheek.
“Oh, baby,” she laughed, holding him, squeezing him hard enough to bubble a bead from his hole.
“Oh, fuck, Jess,” he said.
She collapsed next to him on the bed, her head on his chest and shoulder, and his arm went around her.
“Oh, Jess,” he sighed again and it made her laugh. She held her hand out and watched his seed drip from her fingers onto his stomach.
Her arm crossed over him and hugged him tight and she grunted with the effort, kicking a leg back for an extra squeeze. “Mm, Tyler,” she exclaimed. Her mouth went over his nipple and she pulled it into her mouth.
His hand went down her hip and he said, “Want me to make you come?”
She raised her head up to him, smiled, said, “I’ve got to go pick up Andy.” Then, raised her eyebrow, said, “Did I really take it out of you?”
He nodded, and it gave her such a thrill to think she could have sated this beast; that she could have left him dumb like this with her sexual prowess. She wriggled her finger through his slippery stomach, said, “I better get in the shower then.”
“Unh-unh,” Tyler said. “I want you to go like this.”
“Like this?” she said, smiling at him.
“Dirty. I want the Daycare to know what you’ve been up to. I want them to know who you belong to.”
“Oh, do you?” she said.
“Pout your lips,” he said, and she did, made like she was kissing.
He touched a drop of his semen on her cheek and he smoothed it across her lips until she laughed and it pulled her lips tight. “I can’t, Tyler.”
“You will. No panties, either. Leave them with me.”
She climbed up his hard body until her face was over his and her hair fell around him. “Can I wash my hands?”
He shook his head.
“Fine,” she said and she wiped her fingers off on his chest and across his shoulder and arm trying to find dry skin. “You’re so dirty.”
“You’re so dirty.”
She said, “We make a good couple don’t we?”
“Too bad you’re married.”
That gave her a funny feeling she didn’t like.
She pushed herself off him, she stood up and let him look at her at the side of the bed before she got dressed, turning, smiling and bending.
It felt dismissive. Like an excuse. A reason not to do something.
She put her skirt on, her shirt and her sweater, picked up her bra and dropped it next to him with a smile. Let him see she could up the dirty ante. Then she took her panties, a black pair of Fruit of the Looms, and she slid them under his cock and tied them in a knot around the middle of it. She put her hand on his chest and bent and kissed his lips.
She left to go pick up her son, didn’t once let him see that she had been bothered by his comment. It was probably nothing anyway. Nothing to make a fuss over.
Driving her minivan through the wintry suburbs she felt a nameless dread. And the farther she got from Tyler the more it started to worry her.
31
Hollow
Friday, December 16th
“So, Abby, Mike, we have good news and we have some not so good news,” Jess said. Kevin and his mom and dad sitting across from her in her classroom at the end of the day on the last day before Christmas break.
“Oh?” Mike said, and he looked over at his wife, both of them a little concerned.
“Good news is that Kevin has come so far in just the last month I feel really comfortable in saying he's got a great grasp on division. He's putting in all the work—we can't take all the credit, we have to tip our hats to him.”
“What hats?” Kevin whispered up to his dad, and Mike rested his hand on his knee.
Abby said, “What's the not-so-good news?” and Jess said, Well, I'm gonna miss him over Christmas.
“And that's it?” Abby said with a smile, “So there is no bad news?”
Jess laughed and said, “No, there is no bad news, I just wanted to go over his tests with you, let you know how far he’s come. I sent the tests, put them in this folder for you, and I’ve given him a few more challenges that you can help him with over the next two weeks so that when we come back in January we’ll be up and running. Sometimes a long break like Christmas can really slow down someone's progress.”
“He's been so great about it. Mike and I worked with him and he's been fantastic with maintaining a schedule. We just chip away at this in bits and pieces and I have to say we couldn't have done it...really, your help, with everything you’ve done for us...we can’t take all the credit and all the applause but we wouldn't even have this project he was so successful at without your guidance—without your attention to our son.”
Jess smiled, waved her off.
“Over the Christmas break we’re going to be going away to see my sister in Myrtle Beach, be nice to get away from the snow, but we will make sure that Kevin goes through all these worksheets,” she said tapping her son on the head with the manila folder that Jess had given her and then she said to her son, “The ball is in your court as they say.”
Jess said, “The ball—” and she stopped and then she nodded, “is in—” she had a brief unsettling image of Pete holding Tyler’s balls and preparing to kiss them. His thin lips pursed, pouted, ready to press against Tyler’s big testicles, make his loose scrotal skin bunch. Her heart raced.
“You okay?”
She nodded.
Mike said, “You don’t look okay—you sure?”
“Yeah,” she said, nodded again for them. It was an awful image. She was an awful person. She did that for Tyler. To impress him.
Over Abby’s shoulder Jess could see Sara in the small rectangular window of her classroom door, she looked anxious. She had been a bit funny this last week and Jess wondered if she had something going on. Something with her family. She knew that Sara's mom blamed her for Sara's divorce and she knew that Sara's dad didn't like the idea of his daughter raising up Bart all on her own and he thought that the kid needed a father figure. Sara didn't think so and was the kind to let him know. Sometimes it caused some strife, some upset, between them and she wondered if there had been another blow up.
It looked like she had something pretty heavy weighing on her and Jess wished she didn't have so much on her own plate—wished she could take some time right now and go sit with her and have a coffee and work this out. She didn't like to see her friend in distress but here it was the last day of school and they just never got the time to get together. Earlier today, Sara had said, I need to talk to you before we go away on break, I might not see you and there’s something I need to talk about. Judging by the way she was biting her thumb—her hand to her mouth, thumb between her teeth—Jess thought it was going to be big.
Kevin’s dad shook her hand and he said, “Really, I can't thank you enough, it's so great that we have somebody we can talk to like this, somebody that really does care about our boy, believes in Kevin’s success,” his eyes seemed a little w
atery and that made her feel a bit upset as well but in the best way.
They stood up and she walked to the door and Abby stopped and said, “Oh, congratulations on your award. We were there that night. You looked fantastic up there and you deserve everything they give you, everything they say about you, because we can't stop talking about you to our friends.”
Jess could feel her face flush and she lowered her eyes and said Thank you. She wanted to say, You know the thanks is in the success, and when somebody like Kevin does so well that's all she ever really wants from this job—but she was afraid of sounding hollow, so she just put her hand on Kevin's head and said, “Students like Kevin are the only thanks I need.” It didn't make much sense, sounded just as hollow when she said it, but they all politely laughed and she opened the door for them, told them to have a good time at Myrtle Beach, said to Kevin, I'll see you when you get back, and she watched him walk down the hall with his parents.
She stepped out and looked up and down the hall but Sara wasn't there anymore. Whatever it was must've been so big that she had scared herself away.
32
Missile
Saturday, September 17th
Jess and Pete got back from the Save-Mart Christmas party at 10 P.M. The kitchen was dark, even the dimmed lights were turned off.
The party had been pretty tame compared to last year but there were a few people at Save-Mart that weren't there anymore. It was still a great time and pretty lively. Julio brought a King’s bread, a Rosca de reyes that his wife made. He made sure that Pete and Jess had some. It was a sweet bread full of candied fruit, pretty delicious with butter and coffee; Julio clapped her on the back when her piece had the baby Jesus figurine. He said she was blessed, Pete said, I’m the one that’s blessed, and kissed her cheek. Julio told her it also meant she was on the hook to make tamales next Christmas. She’d laughed but later she put it into her calendar and she would do it.
Tyler's phone was face-up on the island next to a bottle of vodka and some cut up lemon. The screen lit up bright in the dark kitchen. Pete was standing in the hall, hands on his hips, bothered by something. She was bothered too. She picked up Tyler’s phone and went to Pete.
He gestured down the hall with both hands, palms up, like he was unveiling the new model Nissan at a car show. His face was serious. “He’s down in the basement,” he said. Oh boy, down with Pete’s trains.
The basement door was open, the lights on down there lighting up the open door in yellow and splashing a square on the wall across the hall. She could hear the trains.
Jess went down first, holding up the front of her cocktail dress and padding down the wooden steps in her bare feet. Pete was coming behind her. Tyler was there, sitting with his back to them, his elbows resting on the trestle table Pete had built. He had his drink next to him, his head resting in his palms watching the trains pass along the tracks with their plastic electric sizzle.
Jess said, “Hey.”
“Hey,” he said, still watching the trains.
Jess said, “What’s your sister’s name again? Carla? With a C, right?”
“Yeah,” he nodded.
“She never spells it Kayla? With a K?”
Tyler knew what she meant and he turned, looked down to her hand, saw his phone in her tight grip. He calmly put his hand out for her to return his phone to him. She held on to it. She had seen the screen light up in the kitchen, saw a girl’s name and a snippet of conversation and it made her blood boil.
His hand was still out, expectant, and he said, “It’s not my sister.”
“No kidding it’s not your sister. I know it’s not your sister.”
“Give me my phone.”
“No.”
“You can’t get into it.”
“You don’t want to show me what’s on it?”
“Give me the fucking phone.”
It had started. She could feel herself in it. This was a fight. She hadn’t wanted one. Sure, she was mad about the text, but she felt she was being playful. Tyler wasn’t playing around at all. Her hand wouldn’t give up the phone.
“Tyler—”
“We’re not a couple you know.”
It was like he’d slapped her. She felt stunned. He was right but she didn’t see that she was unreasonable. He was talking to another woman. Of course she would be curious.
She looked to Pete and her heart sank. She’d looked to him for support here. Turned and saw his sad, hollow expression, standing there in the shadows at the bottom of the stairs with his hands in his suit pockets, his shirt unbuttoned and tie loosened. Her husband. The man who in her entire life, every day she’d known him had her back one-hundred-percent. He was empty. She was alone in this. He didn’t have her back. She felt tiny. A scared hundred-ten pound girl with no power. She’d felt so strong in the moment, like she was righteous and she was going to keep his phone or something, get him to tell her his passcode so she could read his texts. She thought she could go toe-to-toe. Now under his humourless stare she knew she would do anything to make him smile right now and forget all this nonsense.
“Give me my phone,” he said firmly.
She did. Handed it over to him. She curled against him, rubbed up against him like a kitten. “How were the boys tonight?”
He ignored her, looked at his phone and then put it in his pocket. “You know I’m a free man, right? I can go anywhere I want, any time I want. I can walk out the door and get on with my life.”
She felt her lips tremble. She looked to Pete and felt like she could burst into tears. What he said hurt, but more she hated her husband seeing her being treated this way.
“I know,” she said, lowered her eyes from him.
“I can leave tomorrow. Leave you to your husband.”
“Don’t.”
He got off the stool, stepped back from her and she folded under his stare. He looked her up and down and she hated the feeling. Like she was being measured. Was she worth his time?
“Are you going to be a good girl from now on?”
She nodded for him. Felt her heart pounding. Like there was light at the end of the tunnel. Like he was offering her his hand again.
“Are you going to be good for your daddy?”
She nodded again. She would be good. She could feel her eyes get wet and she struggled to keep it all in. She didn’t want to cry right now; cry and turn him off with her dumb emotions.
“I like your dress,” he said, looking down at what she was wearing. Just a simple, clean black cocktail dress she’d bought in the mall. But she felt good in it.
“Take it off for me.”
She looked away. If her eyes met his right now she might break down. Her hands went up behind her and she clasped the pull between her fingers, held the fabric tight with one hand and slowly drew the zipper down. She pulled her arms out of the sleeves and let the tunic fall forward, revealing her bra. She felt like she should perform, like she should make this a show but her heart felt like it had stopped and she just was frightened, scared. Rejected. She pushed the dress down her hips and let it fall to the floor. She stood in front of him now, her little feet pressed together, her toes clenched up on the concrete, she had one arm folded across her middle holding onto her other wrist. She still couldn’t look up. She stood a long tortuous moment like that, but he didn’t say anything. She chewed her lower lip, glanced up at him, still watching her. He didn’t need to say anything.
Her hands went back again, unclasped her bra, and her breasts dropped. She shrugged out of the straps lightly, let it fall to the floor and she covered her breasts with her hands. Her nipples tightened. She chanced a look at Pete, standing there in his black suit looking like he was attending a funeral. Tyler was blank too. Watching her hands on her flesh, her chest rising and falling as she breathed. She let him see them. Her hands swept her belly, dipped into her panties and she pushed them down, bent a little until she could step out of them. Then up again quickly, worried what her breasts looked like when
she was bent and they were hanging forward off her. She covered them up again.
His hand came up and brushed her arms away. Her nipples went to stone in his gaze. She was quivering. Her back trembled, her arms went to goose flesh. “What do you want?” she whispered.
“What would you do for me?”
“Anything.”
The corner of his mouth pulled up to a mean smile. He said, “Take one of Pete’s trains. We’re going to have a little fun.”
Pete watched his wife turn, her eyes were wild right now. But she was compliant. He watched her put a bare foot up on the stand he’d built so that Petey could watch the trains when he was littler, and now it was for Andy. She stepped up, completely naked, her hands supported herself on his paper mache landscape. The American Flyer was coming down the track. A slender bullet-nosed missile.
He didn’t know where this was going. He supposed the worst. He couldn’t let Jess do that. He wouldn’t watch the mother of his children defile herself. What could he do? If she would do it, how would he stop them? Jess watched the train coming to her. She looked like she would cry. Her pretty breasts swayed, she was trembling. As the train went under her she picked it off the track.
Tyler’s hands went to her shoulders, and he touched her tenderly. He kissed the small of her back, just above her bare rump. Kissed his way up his wife’s beautiful body.
“Stop, Jess,” he whispered.
He turned her to him, she clutched the silver train between her breasts. Her face was like their little Petey’s when he was about to bawl. “I’d never ask you to do that, baby, how could you think I’d mean that?”
His sweet Jess looked so lost, so mixed up. Like the face of someone on the news lost at sea just rescued by a search team, bright camera lights in their face. Tyler took the train from her gently and he put it down on the table behind her. He kissed her chest, her collar and he put his arms around her. Jess collapsed on him. She fell into him like a cord had been cut, her arms went around his neck, her eyes closed, her face sad.
