Wallace smiled. “Good,” he purred. “Now bend over.”
Chapter 6
Now, how was she going to explain this? Angela's eyes darted all over the place, everywhere except into Denise's eyes. Her friendly neighbor had seen Wallace leaving the house the day of the anniversary. Now, Angela was left to quell the imagination of her prurient neighbor.
Wallace. That man would be the death of her. And yet, since she had met him, Angela's mood and outlook on life had been greatly improved. If only it weren’t for her gnawing guilt. And having Denise constantly, playfully but curiously, asking didn't help alleviate her conscience.
In the end, Angela maintained her story that Wallace had been just another friend from work who had come to congratulate her. When the questions died down, Angela made Wallace promise to never show up unannounced at her house again. Fortunately, he agreed, but not without a caveat. In order to facilitate the prohibition on her home, Angela would have to join Wallace on an expedition during Antigua Sailing Week.
At first, Angela scoffed at the idea of seeing Wallace in public. But then she remembered that Andrew would be off the island during that time at the end of April. And when Wallace promised to take her on a yacht during Sailing Week, Angela could not refuse the premiere event.
On April 22 Andrew packed his suitcase, kissed Angela goodbye, then made his way to his flight to Puerto Rico for his commission. Luckily, Sailing Week started soon thereafter.
On the 24th Angela met up with Wallace at Nelson's Dockyard in St. John's, and the two walked along the coast amid locals and visitors alike, all making an appearance at this world-renowned event. As they strode along, Wallace could not keep his hands off Angela. He seemed obsessed with her soft plumpness. He somehow always managed to discreetly cop a feel. Angela would have been annoyed if she wasn't so amused. It was nice to have a man who appreciated her assets.
Having brought his camera, Wallace took photos of Angela as well as of the event. It turned out he had been asked to cover it for the magazine he worked for; so he tried to manage his time accordingly.
As they ate together, Wallace capriciously placed his hand on top of Angela's and looked her in the eye.
What?” she asked curiously, “Is there something on my face.”
“No, only a beautiful expression.” He watched her blush. “But I wanted to ask you something.”
“Okay, but I don't get why you're so serious. Ask.”
“Fine. I was just wondering; do you love your husband?”
Angela nearly spat out her rum drink. Where did that come from? “Wallace, of course I love him. He might be missing a few gears but he's still my husband.”
If Wallace had known beforehand where this question would lead, he would not have asked. “I see. It's just that sometimes I wonder how things would be if you were fully my woman...”
Angela thought on these words as they walked to the yacht. Sex with Wallace was amazing. But she realized sex wasn't what brought her and Andrew closer. They had been together for many other reasons, one being they really did care for each other and had each other's backs. She admired and respected him. Those feelings were mutual, she realized. Angela wanted to reflect more on this. But for today she was caught up in the excitement of riding on the yacht, which a friend had lent Wallace.
There they were. The two of them, out at sea, surrounded by dozens of sailboats, the sea breeze caressing their faces. It was only natural that they fell victim to the mood.
Wallace took Angela below deck. He looked at her as she let her hair fall from the bundle it was in. They had grown accustomed to each other. They had a thing where before they had sex she would stand completely nude and Wallace would take a moment to drink in her image.
But on this occasion they simply slipped into each other's arms and let their bodies mingle. Sex on a yacht. Angela was quite enamored with this idea. It somehow compelled her to please Wallace the best she could. She wrapped her mouth around his dick, rolling and lapping with her tongue. Gripping her head, he began thrusting gently in and out of her mouth as they held each other’s thighs. Then it was his turn. He began by kissing her neck, her breasts, her stomach, down, down down. Licking the surrounding area of her pussy, he nipped the light outer labia, lapping its inner folds. At last his tongue made contact with her dripping wet pussy. Each flick of his skilled tongue made her writhe. After luxuriating in intense pleasure for a while, she climbed on top of him and rode him, holding his head between her breasts and letting him motor boat her. He soon traced her outline with his fingers as he nibbled on her earlobe, all the while forcing his cock in and out of her. Their bodies ebbed and flowed like the waves that surrounded them. They reveled in the bliss of shared ecstasy.
Soon Wallace sat up and had Angela sit in his lap, bouncing wildly as his dick went up into her. She pursed her lips together and hyperventilated as their bodies moved at a maddening pace. Sweat ran down her neck and midriff. Wallace held onto her like a castaway at sea, trying to make sure his every entry was enough to made her quiver. She loved every inch of him. Finally, he blew his hot load inside her and collapsed on the bed, breathless.
Five minutes later, Wallace lay peacefully on the bed watching Angela. She had his dick in her mouth and was toying with his balls. He looked at her and smiled.
“Angel,” he said unflinchingly, “I want you. Leave your husband.”
Angela laughed, not accepting that he was serious, and continued mouthing his penis.
“I mean it, Angel. You say you love him but you don't.” His voice was firm.
“I told you: Andrew's my husband and I won't leave him. I love him.” She then continued downing his penis.
“Oh, really?” he snapped, “Then why are you here sucking my dick? Face it, you don't love him! He doesn't know about your slutty ways.”
Angela lifted her head; her mouth made a popping sound. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was the first time Wallace had insulted her – the first time he had referred to her as a slut.
Her eyes tingled, “Wallace, that's mean.”
“Well not as mean as fucking another man under the nose of your dear husband. Don't you see, your pussy is reserved for me! You didn't even have the decency to explain your frustrations to your own husband. No. You just threw him under the bus to get a taste of yours truly.”
Wallace thought he was building an argument, when in reality he was wreaking havoc with Angela's emotions. She hid her tears. Her next tear-filled words surprised Wallace:
“I think we should stop seeing each other...”
“What?” he blurted out. “What did you just say?”
Angela balled up her fists and dug deep for the strength to make herself clear, “I said this is over!”
Chapter 7
“Whoa! Someone's sure excited to see me.” Andrew looked down at Angela who had wrapped her arms around him in a warm affectionate hug, her head snuggled into his chest.
“But of course,” Angela replied in a bubbly voice. “I've missed you like crazy. You're definitely going to have to make it up me now that you're back. Come, I made dinner.”
Andrew was a little awestruck by his wife's super hospitable temperament, even more so when he reached the dinner table and discovered an assortment of all his favorite foods. Stewed lamb, rice, macaroni pie, yam, grilled corn and salad graced the table, along with fresh tamarind juice. As Angela kissed him on the cheek and pulled up his chair, Andrew was tempted to ask, “Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?” He settled, however, for something else:
“I think I need to travel more often.” He smiled broadly up at her.
“Not a chance,” retorted Angela playfully. “Now tell me about your trip. Did everything go well while you were in Puerto Rico?”
Oddly surprised by the question and her sudden interest, Andrew launched into the details of his Puerto Rican experience. As he spoke, his shoulders grew more and more relaxed.
Angela listened with her
full attention, asking follow up questions to almost every tidbit. The two were very much engaged; very much the way Angela wanted things to be between them from now on. She had decided days ago that she would no longer sabotage her own marriage.
The last few days had been torture for her. She’d spent days crying until she’d felt all dried out. She had stared at her wedding photo, and had broken down completely from the sheer guilt of her betrayal. Since she left Wallace and the yacht, the tears flowed profusely day and night. At one point she had vomited; so sick was she from all of it.
Over the course of the next few weeks, Andrew saw a new side of Angela, a side more appeasing and willing to facilitate him in whatever way she could. Furthermore, Angela finally became more vocal about her feelings. She didn't flat out express her zesty, explicit desires but she did begin making Andrew aware of subtle ways in which he could facilitate her happiness.
Angela took her split with Wallace to heart. She could not allow herself to be vulnerable enough to stray or betray her husband ever again. But she did take away a valuable lesson. And that was the realization that marriages are saved by active dialogue. Keeping this in mind, she talked with Andrew about anything that came up, and sure enough after a little practice, the quality of their interaction improved. Sure, they still weren't having the wet, wild, sticky sex she wanted, but they were having normal sex more often now. She figured that with the lifetime they had ahead of them, she had plenty of time to bring the nature of her sexual appetite to the forefront. For now, she was rediscovering what it meant to be married and was, for the most part, happy.
Even her neighbor, Denise, noticed the change in Angela's spirits. Denise had noticed how enamored Angela now was of her husband, and professed, quite frankly, to be jealous of their marital delight. In truth, Angela had fallen in love with Andrew all over again. All at once, she was being reminded of why she had said yes to him in the first place. She loved how Andrew looked at her in a way that he didn't look at other women. He consulted with her on everything and valued her opinion. On occasion, he spontaneously brought her flowers or gifts. She was married to a good man.
In all, she was content with the direction in which things were going. There was just one problem. Wallace kept trying to reach her. Naturally she ignored him, never returning a single one of his calls or texts. She worried that he would be tempted to show up at the house.
One Sunday morning Angela attended church with Andrew. It had been a bright and sunny day and many were in attendance. Angela moved nervously into the church as if she were trespassing on holy grounds. She felt as if her indecent past made her unworthy. But the greetings of her friends and acquaintances empowered her. No one was judging her. With her arm intertwined in her husband's she walked reverently into the house of God. She sighed a sigh of relief when she made it to her seat without being struck by lightning.
Soon the music began to play, followed by a chorus of hymns. Everyone participated in the introductory singing until finally the pastor was ready to discuss his topic for this week's sermon:
“Today, brothers and sisters, I'd like to talk to you about a very important issue. This issue is pivotal, especially in the course of marriage. What I intend to talk about... is the principle of fidelity and remaining faithful to your partner.”
Angela felt her heart sink, for surely she could not endure a half hour devoted to making her feel like a fraud. She listened alongside everyone else to the pastor's denunciation of people who cheated on their spouses. She cringed when he declared such people to be dark-hearted sinners with no regard for their partner. To make matters worse, every denunciation the pastor made was fortified with a boisterous “Amen” from the congregation.
Angela felt sick to her stomach, but forced herself to maintain an unaffected air. She somehow managed to keep her eyes from watering. She almost cried when Andrew took her hands into his, interlocking their fingers. It was a gesture that seemed to say, “It's okay; I know.” Except he didn't.
When the sermon was over, Angela excused herself in the middle of one of the more animated hymns to go to the bathroom. There, she let herself cry, wiped her tears away and cried again. When she was finished she composed herself, retook her seat and sang along like everything was right with the world.
Chapter 8
“Are you ready to go?” Andrew grabbed his keys from where they hung by the front door. .
Angela smiled, “Yep. It's been a while since we went out. I'm looking forward to tonight. Who’s playing again?” Angela put on a last touch of lip-stick.
“ANTIGUA IS GOING UP against Trinidad and Tobago.”
“Well, I hope we win this one. The team has been struggling lately. Let's go.”
They closed the front door, jumped in the car and began making their way toward their first destination. The plan was to get something to eat at their favorite take-out restaurant, and then afterward, attend the big cricket match at Sir Vivian Richard's Stadium.
As they drove to the restaurant, Angela turned to look back. She couldn't shake the eerie feeling that the white SUV behind them was following like a bloodhound. Could it be a coincidence that it took every turn that Andrew took? When they turned into the restaurant’s drive-through the SUV vanished from sight. She breathed a sigh of relief.
After dismissing her suspicions, Angela turned to the speaker phone and ordered two servings of chow mein. She and Andrew then drove off to a quiet spot at the edge of the parking lot to eat in the car. Soca music played on the radio, making the meal even more enjoyable.
Soon Angela began to feel apprehensive again. She couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching them from a distance. On the way to the cricket stadium she kept her eyes peeled.
“Is everything all right?” Andrew asked.
Angela nodded, “Yeah, yeah. I’m just anxious to get there.”
Andrew didn't quite understand her concern, but he drove the car faster nonetheless.
They arrived at 6:15 pm, and hurried to show their tickets to gain admittance into the stadium. The stadium was almost full, and the cricketers were already out on the pitch preparing to bowl the first ball.
Angela looked at the giddy expression on Andrew's face. Cricket was his favorite sport. Soon the match began, and the Trinidad and Tobago team were set to bat. One by one the balls were bowled and the score rose. There was much cheering when the first out came at the thirty-point mark.
The match was going well. But suddenly a grim expression assaulted Angela's face. She felt her insides clench.
“Why here?! Why now?!” she asked herself in alarm.
There, seven rows down, was Wallace, staring at her with a vengeful look. They scrutinized each other for quite a while. Angela could feel her heartbeat accelerating and her mouth suddenly becoming dry. Andrew was too engrossed in the game to notice how pale his wife had suddenly become. Suddenly, Wallace made a gesture with his hand, indicating that Angela should meet him by the exit. He then moved near the corridor and watched and waited for her.
Angela frowned in anguish. She didn't relish the prospect of Wallace pulling her strings. But with Andrew sitting right next to her, she couldn't risk Wallace approaching her directly. And so, she turned to her husband with a pained look which he mistook for indigestion:
“Do you need to go to the bathroom?” he asked, concerned, but obviously wanting to continue watching the game.
She nodded slowly.
“Okay. I'll tell you the highlights. Hurry back.”
With that, Angela got up and began moving away. Part of her wished desperately that Andrew would grab her hand and pull her toward him and tell her to stay. He didn't. So it was with much regret that Angela now faced Wallace.
“Well hello there, Angel. Been a while since we saw each other. I was beginning to think you were deliberately avoiding me. But we both know that couldn't be the case.” He feigned a look of hurt.
“Cut the crap, Wallace. What are you doing here? I already told you: w
e're through. You've had your fun and I want nothing more to do with you.”
“No, see I'm not letting you off the hook that easily. You're going to follow me to my car and we're going to have a little fun. But don't be alarmed; it wouldn't be the first time we fucked in the proximity of your husband.”
“You must have lost your mind. There's no way I'm going with you!”
“Oh but I think you will.”
“And why is that?” She tried to appear more confident than she felt.
“Because I have this.” Wallace reached into his pocket and pulled something out. He then handed it to Angela. A broad smile appeared on his face as he waited to declare his triumph.
Angela sputtered in dismay, “This... this is...”
“A picture of you with my dick in your mouth from when we first met. I've got copies. Would be a shame if I were to bring this to your husband's attention right about now...”
“D-Don't,” she pleaded.
“Good. I'm glad we understand each other.” He then took her arm and began pulling her. “Now if you'll just follow me.”
“What do you want me do?”
Having taken the front passenger's seat in Wallace's vehicle (the very same SUV she had seen tailing her), Angela looked at Wallace in the driver's seat with a look of despair.
“Let's start with this,” he replied, pulling down his zipper and letting his elongated dick flop out of his pants. “You know how fond I am of your soft hands.”
Angela’s heart raced. Closing her eyes, clenching her teeth, she took a deep breath, positioned her hand on Wallace's penis and began tugging on it with gentle finesse and a firm grip. She could feel the blood pulsing through the veins of his penis.
“That's a good girl. Keep going. I can tell that you're enjoying yourself. Hey! I didn't say you could stop.”
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