I must be a terrible person. Or crazy. What else could explain why a happy, successful attractive wife would fuck two delinquents and then allow herself to be caught in the most degrading of acts by her adoring handsome husband?
And certainly I deserved what I got. Right? Or did I get off light? Sure, Matthew got rough. He called me names and pissed on me. That’s bad. Punishment for adultery has been worse, though. Actual violence instead of violent, and also hot, sex. Real punishment instead of a punishing fuck.
At any rate, our marriage is in ruins, right? Matthew caught me. He took his rage out on me bodily and left me to clean up the mess without waiting around to talk it out, or whatever. Things seem grim for this couple.
But maybe not. Maybe I’m not a terrible, crazy or stupid bitch. Maybe I got just what I wanted. Maybe our marriage is in transition to something stronger and more honest. Something better.
Now that does sound kinda crazy. But it's not.
Matthew’s initial reaction to my blatant infidelity shocked me. He’d just kicked the two kids out, one of them violently. But after, instead of blowing up at me or throwing something or even stomping his feet, Matthew just sat down in the armchair and stared into the middle distance, mute as a monk.
I sat in a ball at his feet looking up at him, enumerating possible reactions in increasing order of likelihood. He could murder us all. He could get the video camera. He could join in. He run screaming into the night. He could call his lawyer. He could sit down with me for a nice talk. He could hit me. He could hit them (well he did knock Jimmy down). He could yell. He could cry.
‘He could go mute’, wasn’t even on the list.
Honestly. I’d expected yelling. And I’d prefer anything but this dead affect.
He didn’t seem to be in a space for words. So I touched his leg, trying to make contact. To get something, anything, going. When he looked at me his eyes filled with tears. The change encouraged me. I needed to do something more though. Judging from his beet red face, Matthew was about to stroke out. I sensed that words wouldn’t help, not yet. But touch worked.
I crawled forward and unzipped him. He was docile and completely flaccid. His cock had never made it to my mouth soft, at least not at the beginning of the night. Usually, just looking at his cock and licking my lips would be enough to get it hard. Now I sucked gently, desperately trying to get any life out of it. Only more tears came. Real doubt hit me for the first time. Had I miscalculated? His flaccid cock suggested I had. Ashamed, I almost ran out. But that would mean defeat. The unacceptable end. I had to continue.
So I doubled down, unbuckling his belt. He helped me get his pants down so I could get better access, but otherwise he remained unresponsive. His flaccid cock was easy to swallow whole. I took it all the way in and licked the whole underside. I even licked his balls. Still nothing. I felt the panic of a child with a broken birthday present. But then, like a balloon, his cock expanded to fill my mouth and throat and to push my jaws apart. I sighed with relief. Everything will be ok now
, I told myself.
What followed was a succinct expression of Matthew’s anger articulated with cock, muscle, cum and hot bitter liquid which now cooled and dried on my skin. I lay there on the Himalayan rug listening to Matthew’s footsteps recede as he descended the stairs down to the master bedroom. I’d never been fucked like that before. And Matthew, ever the considerate selfless lover, had never been so honest. At least not since we got engaged.
I kicked off my pumps and got up. Pushed the coffee table off the rug and rolled it up then threw it over my shoulder and lugged quickly it out back. We had a small completely enclosed concrete patio with some fossilized potted plants and sad little plastic chairs. It wasn’t much but it did have a hose.
Standing in the cold night air, I looked forlornly at the garden hose, mentally preparing myself. The cold crept up my legs from my feet, just from standing barefoot on the concrete. The water would be much colder. Reluctantly, I picked up the sprayer and turned the spigot on. I started low and moved up. The freezing spray sucked my breath completely out. Half way up, I was hyperventilating. When the water hit my chest, I stopped breathing altogether, my skin and muscles contracted. I swear I lost a bra size, my nipples grew diamond hard. I squeezed my eyes shut and pointed the spray at my face then over my head. I bellowed out a yelp and dropped the hose.
Shivering and pointy nippled , I ran in for a proper shower. The water couldn’t get hot fast enough. Fifteen minutes later with steam rising off my naked body, I crept through our dark bedroom and crawled into bed next to Matthew. He immediately pulled me in for a spoon, strong arms crushing me tight against his hard body for a desperate hug. I could feel his cock growing between my ass cheeks. Mmmm .
Now would be a good time for a discussion. But Matthew needed to start the conversation. Against my nature, I bit back my words and tried relaxing.
My dear husband had other plans. He rolled me over onto my stomach and speared my sore ass with his hard dry cock . A groan escaped my lips. I tried to deal with the discomfort. There was some lube left over from before, but it hurt anyway. Thankfully, he remained like that, just pressing down on my rear, pushing his cock in me as far in as it would go, but not moving otherwise.
I tried to relax. Unable to help it, I let out a tiny mewl of pain.
He groaned softly, pulling out almost all the way he slowly pushed back in, pressing down on me again. I whimpered. He pulled and pushed in again, sighing contentedly at my pained whimper.
Obviously Matthew had some aggression to work out of his system. And some lust. His ambivalence loomed over me, my mewling cries spoke for his rage while slow forceful thrusts communicated his lust.
I laughed silently at my predicament. If I asked, he’d stop and if he stopped, we’d have the worst kind of fight . This would be the end. So I lay passively, soaking up his aggression and lust, waiting for him to choose between hate and love.
By the fifth or sixth thrust I was able to use whatever muscles are down there to fuck him back. He groaned. I let out and “oo” of pain and pleasure. Anal sex never really did it for me but I loved pleasing Matthew and clearly, he loved hurting me. He fucked my sore ass like that for another ten minutes before coming quietly and flopping over onto his back. Despite the pain, I’d gotten worked up. He’d left me high and dry, wanting more.
In the dark I could see him rampantly pointing to the ceiling. Still hard, amazingly. My completely unfucked pussy ached with need as much as my ass ached for other reasons. If we weren’t going to discuss what happened and we weren’t going to fight, then at least I could get my needs met. If he could have a good time, so could I.
I got up on all fours, swung over, and took him in my mouth. All the way. He hissed, still sensitive after cumming . But he didn’t stop me either. So I kept at it until I could see him relax. Without regard for his needs, I mounted him, fucking myself on his cock. We looked into each others’ shadowed eyes. Matthew put his hands behind his head and casually watched me, not moving a muscle to please me. A very comfortable silence grew between us as I wantonly pleasured myself on him. I rocked harder, rubbed my clit with a finger and groaned then came intensely, squeaking between hissing breaths, thighs clenching his hips tightly. Satisfied, I flopped over onto my back, panting from the exertion.
Matthew wasn’t done. Without giving me a chance to recover, he lithely rolled over onto me and pushed his cock into my still sensitive pussy. I nearly screamed and pushed against his chest. But with alarming ease he pinned my wrists together above my head and thrust into me. I struggled at first, but oversensitivity turned into pleasure. I relaxed. Looking up, I could see him smiling at me like he had a secret. I smiled back, a big dope happy smile of satisfaction.
Whatever happened before was “grudge-fucking”, I think he called it once. Or maybe it was a physical argument; his cock making his points for him. Whatever it was, He’d chosen love over hate. Wonder and joy coursed through me and tears filled my eyes.
I wrapped my legs around him and, after he let my wrists go, pulled his face to mine for a long soulful kiss. Soon I had another orgasm, sighing and moaning into his mouth.
Matthew reluctantly broke the kiss to flip me over onto my hands and knees. He entered me from behind with long firm, but somehow gentle, strokes. I reached back and massaged myself to vocal orgasm. My husband pushed me prone and continued making love to me, gently nibbling on my shoulder and kissing my cheek as he thrust into me and I pushed back into him. I smiled and sighed.
Despite the climax bonanza, I was getting uncomfortable. I groaned a bit. We’d been in this position many times, he knew he needed to finish up or stop.
Matthew changing position, moving forward so his cock was pointing straight down. Now he could only thrust an inch to two into me but each thrust hit the roof of my pussy, driving me crazy. I moaned underneath him. He moaned back and started a series of rapid short thrusts. I panted and moaned wantonly as climax approached. I reached between my legs for my clit just as Matthew’s thrusting lost all rhythm. He cried out as he flooded my pussy. His orgasm pushed me over the edge and we bucked and bounced chaotically to our mutual satisfaction.
Matthew rolled off me wordlessly and let out a deep satisfied sigh. I lay there breathlessly, not a thought in my head, happy, delighted and sore.
Soft snoring sounds broke me out of my blissful bubble. The clock said 10:34. Matthew was dead to the world. Words would have to wait for morning. I pulled the blankets over us and closed my eyes.
I woke to an empty bed. For a moment I panicked. Was I completely wrong about last night? Had he left? The smell coffee cut through my hysteria before I really lost it. The clock said 6:50. My ass was sore, my pussy ached pleasantly and my mouth watered at the smells wafting down from the kitchen. I stepped in the shower before putting on a robe to meet Matthew.
Apprehensively I padded into the kitchen. Matthew’s smile fell off his face as he turned from the stove to me, spatula in hand. I quailed at his countenance.
“No,” he said. “Not that. Never wear that damn robe again.” I looked down at the white robe. He’d bought it for me for Christmas. I guess I’d worn it last night, thoughtlessly. I should have worn that silk kimono I never use. Shit. “Throw it away or give it to Good Will. I don’t care. Just get it the hell out of my sight. Right now.”
I turned to go.
“Wait.” I stopped. “Those pumps,” his eyes flicked in the direction of the living room. From the kitchen entryway, I could see them neatly placed against the wall by the TV. He wanted them gone too, I guessed.
“Put them on.”
My jaw dropped. Matthew gave me a steady appraising look, watching my reaction. I snapped my mouth shut and moved.
I picked up the pumps before going back downstairs. After a moment of thought, I wrapped the pumps up with the robe and pushed the whole bundle under our bed. I’d bought them to match a hideous bridesmaid outfit. The style was so 1985. I’d only worn them to the wedding and last night. Jimmy wanted me to wear high heels. ‘Heels’ to a boy like that means either pumps or stripper shoes. And I don’t own stripper shoes. I couldn’t bare the thought of wearing the pumps any more than wearing the robe.
From the closet I fetched a pair of heels. Black sandals with a sharp four inch heel. Two straps, one across the toes and another across the ankle, like a cuff, attached them to my feet. I loved how they looked on me, but I almost never got to wear them. They screamed sex. I kicked off my bunny slippers and buckled them on. I slid into a matching black satin babydoll, no need to eat breakfast nude.
Back upstairs, I could hear frying noises. Bacon mixed with the smell of coffee. My mouth watered. Matthew had set two places at the breakfast nook. I sat in mine and sipped hot coffee, relishing the burst of flavors on my tongue and the warmth spreading down my throat. He’d squeezed pink grapefruit juice, too. I admired Matthew as he approached holding two plates. Tall and athletic, he cut a fine figure in his dark blue silk robe. I could feel my nipples harden at the sight of him. He didn’t seem to notice my attire or my arousal. He put a plate down in front of me and then sat down in front of his .
We ate in silence, just looking at each other. Matthew had a sly air of satisfaction about him. Like he was enjoying a joke at my expense. Something was up. As our plates emptied he looked ever more smugly satisfied. I wanted to ask but resolutely, I waited for him to start.
Finally, I couldn’t take anymore, “What?” I asked.
He laughed. “It must be killing you.”
“Yes dammit, it is. What’s up with the Cheshire smile?”
“You haven’t a word since last night. I thought I’d wait to see how long it took you to explode.”
“I thought you needed space,” I stated.
“That was courteous of you.” Ouch. I winced at the jab. He smirked.
“Verbal fencing isn’t going to help,” I said. “Do you want more time?” To process everything, I added silently. Then I said, “Or maybe you need to rape me again?”
Surprise pursed his lips. “Whose fencing now?” he asked. “And dirty fencing at that.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “Sorry, that was a bit low.”
Satisfied, he pointed to the living room and said, “let’s go in there.”
The scene of the crime. I lead and he followed. He’d mopped the floor, I could tell. It explained why the pumps had been neatly placed at the wall instead of where I’d kicked them. I took the couch, hoping he’d sit next to me. But like last night, he took the armchair.
I slid onto the floor in front of him, deliberately folding myself into a ball like I had last night, waiting for him to speak. The symbolism wasn’t lost on Matthew.
We looked at each other. Matthew’s gaze raked over me.
Would he talk or just stare?
“You know,” he said finally, “I keep going over the whole night. One thing sticks out.”
“One thing?” I asked. His eyebrows raised, acknowledging my joke. But he continued.
“When I yelled it scared Jimmy and Skinny. Watching their reactions was funny, especially Skinny’s. But yours was different. You just curled up on the floor.” He wagged a finger at me. “Not surprised.”
So no ‘why’ questions, censure or yelling. This was a puzzle. He wanted the parts to fit. To figure it out mentally even if he’d already figured it out physically. Classic Matthew, in his head again.
“Skinny?” I deflected.
“The other guy”, obviously.
“Pete. His name…”
“I don’t give a fuck what the oxygen thief’s name is,” Matthew interrupted with tightly controlled rage.
No problem showing anger, there . Good.
“I heard the outside noises get loud,” I answered his question obliquely. He looked confused. “When you opened to door, I mean. It was windy and cars down on Mission got louder. I could feel the change in air pressure, too.”
“So you knew I was watching.” I nodded. I could see the wheels moving behind his eyes.
“And you planned... to be caught.” I nodded again.
“I’m going to need help here, Laura.” He blew out a breath, exasperated.
“What possible reason would you have to… to do that
, and then deliberately get caught doing it?”
“I wanted to start a fight,” I said.
“What? You couldn’t try something else?”
“I did. I’ve been trying to get you pissed off at me for a while now.”
At a loss for words, Matthew shook his head made a pleading gesture. I needed to explain.
“I cut my hair short.” I ran a hand through my short hair. His eyes bulged in disbelief.
“Ok, yeah, that doesn’t compare. But you always talk about how you love my long hair, so I thought I’d start there. And… you loved it.” If fact he fucked me silly the night I came home with this modified pixie.
“So I showed up late a few times. Really late. I acted drunk at that BBQ on labor day and flirted with Craig right in front of you. Nothing.” I threw up my hands. “Nothing worked. So I went with the nuclear option.”
“Nuclear. Option,” he tasted the words. “What does getting me mad accomplish?”
“When have you been mad at me, ever?” This was the heart of it.
“We’ve had fights,” he stated.
“You mean, like, about school vouchers?”
He nodded. I shook my head. “That’s an argument. A heated discussion, even. Not emotional, not personal, not serious. I needed you to get genuinely mad at me. I was starting to think you’re incapable of it.”
“Why is that important?”
“Because long term it’s unsupportable . And shallow.”
“Well, if that’s not what I feel, then…” My sigh of exasperation interrupted him. He waited for a response.
“Let me try a different tack.” I’d tried this argument before, but maybe I’d have luck now. For some reason, I thought back to our first session of lovemaking back in his old studio in Potrero.
“Is there anything you’ve wanted to try, in bed I mean, but haven’t asked me to do with you?”
His face closed up. He sat back in the armchair. Score. Direct hit. “I take it, yes.”
“Nearly naked in high heels is nice,” he said, trying to deflect. I usually wore a yoga gear, or that robe and my bunny slippers around the house.
“Honestly, I kind of like it,” I said, looking down at myself. “But not your idea, tell me something you
wanted,” I demanded.
“Wait, just whose idea was that?”
“Jimmy’s…” I shrugged, a bit embarrassed. Matthew looked down at my feet.
why you swapped shoes. You didn’t want to be reminded either.” He looked enlightened. I nodded.
“Jimmy’s just full of ideas isn’t he,” he said. I reached to take the shoes off. “Wait.” I looked up, waiting. He blushed and stammered softly, “keep them on. And chuck the others.”
“Already in the bin,” I said. I spread my legs, heels flat on the ground, so I could rest my elbows on my knees. With the babydoll’s high hemline, I couldn’t be sure if I was giving Matthew a show or not.
“Great things come to those who ask,” I said.
“So, Jimmy just asked?”
“Why Jimmy and Skinny anyway?”
“Pete … uh, Skinny was… unplanned. Really. Jimmy served himself up and a silver platter. I thought you wouldn’t, couldn’t, take him seriously.”
It was too soon for this line of questioning. “But don’t change the subject,” I added. “Tell me something you’ve wanted to do but haven’t and I’ll tell you about Jimmy.”
A storm of emotions passed over Matthew’s face. The muscles in his arm tensed and released. My mouth went dry.
“That first day, at my apartment.” He said it with a lopsided grin, remembering. “Actually on the way up. You were ahead of me and I wondered if I could bounce a quarter off your ass.”
“Ok, I hadn’t expected that.” Unable to process any reason out of his statement, I laughed. “I’m not sure what that would do for you.”
“Your ass was, is ... so mmm." He made squeezing motions with both hands and pursed his lips comically. "Haven’t you heard that expression before?”
I shook my head giggling. He smiled back.
“It means you have a fine
ass,” he said.
“Aw, you’re so sweet.” My heart filled with love for him.
“Something else Matthew. Something you really want to do.” I smiled encouragingly.
“There’s a quarter there on the table.” We smirked at each other. He glanced between my spread legs. Maybe the babydoll didn’t cover my bare pussy. Maybe I was giving him a show. Inexplicably I felt sexy.
“I did most of the things I ’ve thought about doing with you last night,” he evaded.
“You’ve wanted to… pppppssssss ?” I waved an invisible cock above my head.
“No, that… that came out-a nowhere.” He said. “I’m really sorry about that. Can you forgive me?” Jesus.
“Are you kidding?” I said. “It was super hot.”
“You thought so?”
“Didn’t you? Isn’t that why you did it?”
Matthew slowly shook his head. “I’m not sure what I was thinking.”
“Well then that doesn’t count. Give me a fantasy, something you’ve wanted to do but haven’t. Come on, tell me," I begged. "Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than... pppppsssss .”
He laughed, looking relaxed.
“I wondered what you’d look like with my cum on your face and my cock in your mouth, that night at the Doubletree.” He said it quietly, like a kid admitting he’d shoplifted a Penthouse.
At. Last. “Why didn’t you? Once we hooked up I mean.”
“Well, back then I didn’t really know you. Once I got to know you, I kind of fell in love and I thought you might be offended.”
“Well, you’d think less of me, anyway.”
“Why would I do that?”
He shrugged. “I’m not saying it makes sense.”
“So you have trouble asking for what you want, in bed. And you hide your anger.”
“Hiding it? I’m not hiding it. I just don’t get angry.”
“You don’t?” Head shake. “So you agree at least that you don’t get mad. Right?” Head nod.
“What did you do when you found Kate and your friend together?”
“Wait, stop,” he said. “The deal was, I say what I want, in bed, and you tell me about Jimmy fuck face.”
“Fuck face. Nice.” Shit. I didn’t want to dwell on it. But, fair enough. “What do you want to know?”
“I told you, he’s no threat to you. Outside of the actual act, he’s nothing dangerous to us. And he was convenient.”
“That wasn’t the first time, though. Kind of kills your ‘no threat’ position.”
“Yeah, I miscalculated once.”
“Once.” He chewed the word, testing its veracity. “How did you get him involved. anyway ?”
I inhaled and held it. Then exhaled explosively. I was ready to confess.
“Okay. One day, about a month ago, after running with Mary there was a knock on the door. I’d just showered off so I answered the door with wet hair, wearing that bathrobe. There was Jimmy, handing out business cards. Apparently he’s styling himself as a handyman now. $12 an hour. I told him I had a handy enough man. To my shock he got the innuendo and let me know he was available should you fail to be handy.”
“The cheeky fuck,” growled Matthew.
“I threw the card on the side table.” Like every side table at the front door, ours was full of menus, leaflets, keys and the occasional business card.
“I decided to ‘go nuclear’ with Jimmy. So I picked it back up last Thursday. You were due in between 9 and 9:15 if nothing went awry.”
“Got fogged in,” he said.
“Yeah, I called him at 8:30 and said I needed his handy services at 9 sharp.” Matthew looked grim as I carried on.
“He’s punctual, at least.” We both smirked. “I answered the door in that robe, it seemed appropriate. The look on Jimmy’s face when I dropped it was priceless. Like he’d hit the jackpot.”
“He did hit it.” Matthew shrugged and waved for me to continue.
“He tried to act all manly and in command. Told me to get on my knees. I did. In two minutes there was cum all over me. I made a show of smiling and jacking him all over my face. He seemed delighted. Boy in a candy store.”
Matthew groaned miserably as I continued.
“He didn’t get soft so he just bent me over on the stairs and took me from behind. This time he lasted longer. I expected you home any minute so I wasn’t too worried he’d cum in me. But you didn’t. Damned fog. The whole time he wouldn’t shut up. He kept saying things like, ‘Take it bitch,’ and ‘You’re a slut,’ etcetera. I tried not to giggle. Finally, he got close. You were clearly not coming even if he was about to. I didn’t want him spooging in me so I flipped around and let him jack off on my face again.”
“That’s why he thought you loved it.”
“I don’t mind it,” I confessed. I could feel my face flush red with embarrassment. “But he didn’t get me excited at all.” I shrugged. “Amazingly, he remained hard.”
“You have that effect on men, I guess.”
“He wanted to fuck me in the ass. Which is apparently another effect I have on men.” Matthew shrugged noncomittally. “By that time I’d decided you were held up and nothing useful would happen. I told him I needed to prepare for that.”
I couldn’t tell if Matthew was angry or horny. I continued. “Before he left, Jimmy informed me I should be prepared and wearing high heels next time. I told him, I’d call.”
“Well, that explains a few things.” Matthew seemed to be taking this well. But I guess he’d already seen worse.
“I felt awful. Cheap and used. I’d failed in my mission and Jimmy got the better of me because of it.”
“You seemed excited enough last night.”
“Well, I knew you were watching. I’d planned it right. It was thrilling.”
“How’d you do that? I didn’t text you when we cleared for take-off.”
“We have the same Apple ID. I used the Find My iPhone feature to track you . It's surprisingly accurate. I calibrated it by tracking you home Monday and Tuesday nights. Then last night you texted me about the delay. But I saw you take off. It was perfect.”
“I checked traffic when you left SFO. I tracked you as I took time to prepare. Makeup and an enema or two. Lube and a butt plug. You know.” That got a rise out of Matthew. “When I saw you’d turned onto Cesar Chavez…”
“Army,” Matthew interrupted. They’d renamed Army a few years ago and Matthew, as well as a number of the military types, never got over it.
“Whatever,” I said. “I could keep explaining or we could argue about that.” He waved me on.
“I called Jimmy and told him to be at my door in 10. I saw them walking over from up here and waited for your headlights down the street.” Behind Matthew was a huge bay window that allowed a panoramic view of the street below as well as the Mission.
“Once I saw your beams, I headed down to confront Jimmy about his friend. We argued about it for a bit, but he insisted his friend join. I could see your headlights illuminating them. I didn’t think I had much time. So I relented and invited them in.” I looked up at Matthew. “And you know the rest.”
“No, not quite.”
I waited. What hadn’t I covered?
“How did you feel about it all this time?”
“Before you came in, I’d been going through the motions. I mean, as much as you can with two guys. But when I saw your shadow move on the stairwell out of the corner of my eye, I nearly came.”
“So you liked being a whore in front of me?”
I searched my feelings. Embarrassment and humiliation. Did he really think I was a whore?
“I was acting before you showed up. I was acting with Jimmy that first time.” I raked my gaze over Matthew, ending at his crotch. “I don’t know if its being caught or being watched. But the second I knew you were there, I stopped acting.”
“So you are
The word turned me on last night, now it stung. Funny. “I prefer ‘adventurous’,” I said.
“Why should I believe you?” he asked.
“Why would I lie?”
“Maybe you’ve been fucking him for months, maybe you’re a big tramp?”
I hadn’t expected to be doubted. And I didn’t know how to convince him. Then it hit me. “His phone,” I said. “And mine. They’ll have matching histories. Plus, you can check my phone bill.”
“Wait, right here.” Matthew stood and sauntered downstairs. A minute later he was back, two phones in hand. He checked mine and handed it to me. I put it on the coffee table while he looked through Jimmy’s phone.
“No security,” he tisked . I felt relief. “Ok, let’s check his texts. Oh this is nice.” He turned the phone and showed me. To Pete:
The MILF called me over. I’m gonna fuck her in the ass tonight for sure.” From Pete:
Dude, I’m coming over. I wanna see this. To Pete:
You’ll queer the deal, stay home. From Pete:
I’m getting some of that or I’ll tell Mr. Anderson about you and Penny. To Pete:
Fuck you dick. Be here in 5 or you lose.
“MILF?” I asked.
“Mom, I’d Like to Fuck,” Matthew answered helpfully.
“Well, that’s MILTF not its not accurate at all,” I made my indignation clear.
“More like MIF. And by his standards, you’re old.”
“Hey, at least I believe your story now. Even if it is the stupidest plan in history.”
“It worked,” I said, trying to get the conversation back on target.
“Yeah,” He changed tack. “So was that your first threesome?”
“Stop,” I said. “I don’t want this degenerating into a discussion about our sexual history, as interesting as that would be. The deal was: I tell you about Jimmy, you tell me about Kate and Robert. We can talk about sex later.”
We’d talked about Kate and Robert a time or two before. But he related it like a news report. Horrible facts announced without emotions followed by a chirpy segue to feel-good trivia.
“What’s to tell, I divorced her,” he said, the threat in his voice was obvious. He could do the same to me.
Undeterred, I said, “I mean the first thing.”
“Uh, I left and got coffee. Called a lawyer at Pete’s.”
“No yelling? No rage?”
“Well. I yelled at Robert. About a week after. He tried to make it seem like my fault. Said Kate ‘wandered’ because I couldn’t satisfy her.”
I snorted. “Not possible.”
Matthew threw me a dirty look, holding back the obvious question.
“When I called him on it, he tried to hit me.” Matthew made a fist and rubbed his knuckles. “That fight felt so good.” I had to smile, he could get mad at guys at least.
“Do you want to hit me?”
“No.” He looked genuinely shocked, “God no, Laura.”
“What about Kate?”
“No.” He sounded miserable but sure of it. “I moved out and stopped paying into our joint account. Got a lawyer and divorced the bitch. Moved into that studio.”
“You planning the same for me?”
“Apparently not. At least not right now.” Another threat. “This can’t all be about anger and sustainability or whatever.”
“It’s deeper than that. It took me time to figure it out. But I think I did. And I think you aren’t going to like it. And also, you may need therapy.” I ducked as I said it.
Matthew guffawed. “Not in a million years.” He was ex-military, so was his father. Therapy is code for unstable or undesirable. “But, please, set me straight. I know you want to.”
Ouch. “I don’t want to. But I think we need it. And it’s going to hurt.”
“More than last night?”
“I think so.” He sat back again.
“Wait, this is getting too serious.” I couldn’t believe he said that. “We need to lighten up the mood.”
“Okay…,” I nudged. What did he have in mind?
“Take off that top.”
“ Babydoll ,” I said automatically.
“Army. Top. Whatever. Take it off.” I hesitated. “What? You wanted me to ‘express’ myself.”
I shrugged. Then removed it, taking my time. Matthew sighed as I exposed my breasts, a hopeful sign. I threw the top - babydoll - aside and looked on.
“That’s better,” he said.
I giggled. “Okay, levity is nice,” I said.
“So are breasts.”
I arched an eyebrow. I spread my bent legs apart. Giving him a show for sure this time.
“And everything else too.” He eyed my bare pussy.
I don’t know a thing about posing or being sexy, but it seemed to do the trick.
“This is fun,” I said. “We don’t usually do this.”
“You parade around here nude all the time.”
“Yeah, but not to be sexy. Not just for you.”
this just for me?”
I said nothing, understanding what he meant. I nodded solemnly. Yes, this is all yours and yours alone
, I wanted to say.
“Ok. I believe that.”
“So... why no anger at Kate?” Back to the subject.
“Ugh.” Matthew rolled his eyes.
“Come on,” I encouraged.
“I think I need another deal.”
I cupped my breasts and smiled cheekily, “I think you just got it.”
“I saw mad at her. I just didn’t tell her. Or talk about it.”
“ What shut you up?”
“I don’t know. You tell me, Mrs. I-got-it-all-figured-out.”
“You were a lot more adventurous before we got engaged. I mean, you weren’t telling me everything you wanted, apparently,” I gave him a dirty look, “but you played the games I started. Then I put that ring on your hand.” I’d proposed to him. A modern girl all around. “That changed everything. Remember fucking in my old room back at my parent’s house?”
“I tried the same thing in your old room but you refused. It confused me at the time, but eventually, I decided the change was our engagement.” I’d proposed between visits to my old house and his.
“You know, I don’t recall our love life being dull. Or has that all been an act?”
“No act. I love our love life. I just…”
“You’re just a whore?” he asked bitterly.
“No, I’m damn well not,” I said straightening my posture haughtily, which is pretty hard to do in the buff. Matthew laughed at me. I pouted and crossed my arms.
“Hey,” he said waving his arms at my chest. “Don’t hide ‘ em .” Unfolding my arms, I smiled back at him.
“Anyway, I’m not sure what you’re saying. What’s this got to do with Kate?”
“You put women on a pedestal. You need them to like you. Kate, me, probably all your ex- es to some extent. You Mom, even. You can’t get angry at them and you can’t be completely honest because you want to please them. I took a stab based on the way he’d shamefully confessed to wanting to cum on me. “Deep down, you’re afraid they’ll think you’re gross or sick or… something bad.”
Matthew rocked back in the chair. Another score. His face flushed.
“Eventually it all becomes untenable. You have to leave them, or they leave you. But it's always worse with the next one, isn’t it?”
“The storm builds,” he said.
“You lost me.”
“Nothing,” he said. “I can’t explain it. But I you’re not wrong about me.”
His calm admission rocked me. I sat in front of him, silent.
“But you were wrong to do what you did,” he said through clenched teeth. Anything but calm, now. “So you fucked those little shits for my benefit? It's my
fault you’re a whore?” He jabbed his chest.
“Did you think Kate’s a whore too?”
“ I she’s an idiot,” he spoke softly, looking away, the suggestion obvious .
“I agree,” I said. “And you can call me a whore all you want.” My words shocked him into looking back at me. “At least in private. But let's be clear. I’m not stupid. Or co-dependent. The decision to fuck those two was mine and mine alone. I could have spent time trying to reach you. To convince you by other means. But I took a short cut.”
“And enjoyed it.”
“Yes,” I sighed. “Okay? Is that what you need to hear? Once you were watching, I enjoyed the hell out of it.”
“You fucked two guys just to get me mad and you expect me to what ? Forgive you? To understand?” Matthew bit off each question harshly, barely controlling his anger.
“You forgave me last night, in bed,” I snapped back. “Now your brain’s catching up with your cock.”
He sat back like I’d splashed water in his face.
“Well,” he said. “I’d like my cock to catch up with your face!”
What? I snorted. “What?” I asked out loud.
“I don’t know,” he yelled, exasperated. And then he cracked up. “Jesus, what the fuck did I just say.”
“Something about your cock catching up with my face.”
"Well," he said looking me over salaciously. I arched an eyebrow. He returned the look, so I unfolded and crawled forward.
“Maybe this is what you mean,” I said. Parting his robe came much easier than unzipping his pants did last night. And this time he was already hard for me. I took him in my mouth lovingly.
“ Mmf ?” I asked.
“Ohhh, yeah. That’s what I meant.” Matthew groaned as I sank further down onto his shaft. Not a minute later, I had him on the edge. I broke off my efforts.
“Would you like to cum on my face?,” I asked.
He nodded silently.
“Say it,” I demanded.
“I… May I come on your face?” he asked meakly .
“I’d love you to,” I said. “There, was that so hard?”
He stood up and I adjusted, taking him back in my mouth.
“May I fuck your face?” he moaned.
“ Mmm ,” I confirmed.
Grabbing two handfuls of my hair, he pushed me onto his cock. I did my best to keep my teeth out of the way and not gag. I didn’t have to work at it lone. After three thrusts his cock jerked alkaline liquid onto my tongue. I took him out of my mouth and looked up into his eyes as I aimed his cock at my face.
The first stream hit my nose and upper lip. I closed my eyes, cooing encouragement. He splashed my face again and again as I jacked him off covering my cheeks, forehead, nose and my right eye. Finally, as he slowed down, I kissed the tip and licked him clean while looking up at him with my one uncovered eye.
“Was it what you wanted?” I asked after I’d cleaned him thoroughly. He’d sat back down and I folded back into a ball in front of him, naked, legs spread like before but now with cum dripping distractingly down my face.
“I’m not sure.”
“What!” The nerve of the guy. “Are you trying to pick another fight?”
“So that’s a fight?” he asked, smiling down at me.
“Yeah, just for a second there, it was. You need practice though. And don’t expect all of them to end like that.”
“You may be right about my relationships. Each time, the blow up is a bit bigger than the last.”
“Laura?” he said seriously. “I’m not sure we’ll ever be the same.” He looked torn. Sad. I waited.
"What you did really hurt me. And somehow, despite that, I think I love you more. Or I feel it more. I love you,” he continued. “I have since about the time first I saw you. And I always will, I think. But now I feel sad, too. I feel loss and love mingling when I look at you. And I’m sad, because I know I can lose you."
Unshed tears welled in his eyes. Mine watered too.
“I think...” What did I want to say? “I think when we first fall in love it's easy to ignore the possibility of it ending. We feel great, on top of the world. So it’s easy to be shallow about it. But deep love, real love, must acknowledge the possibility of loss. If you have one, you will have the other. Yin and Yang.”
We both nodded silently. I put my palm on his knee as tears ran down both our faces.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” I said quietly. To my surprise, Matthew began laughing.
“Well," he chuckled. "This would all be more profound if you weren’t covered in cum.”
I laughed and crawled gingerly up onto his lap, trying not to stab either of us with my stilettos. I slid down onto his hard cock with a sign then held his face between my hands. I pulled him up for a kiss, deep and soulful like last night.
“Mm, cum," he smacked his lips. "My favorite!”. I smiled at his sarcasm before he pulled me to cover it with another kiss.
Were my actions terrible, crazy or smart? I guess it depends on perspective. Looking back now, maybe it's all three. Or quite possibly they were unnecessary. Whatever the case, we wouldn’t change our lives now for anything.
It’s been a year since that morning. Matthew and I are as happily married as ever. We’re both more open about what we want which sometimes is just a quickie. We have a lot of those. But we have all-afternoon sex too.
It turns out Matthew’s fantasies are tame, almost banal. We didn’t start swinging or having group sex in a park. Matthew doesn’t get off watching me cuckold him. But sometimes I prance around the house in a skimpy outfit or just a pair of heels to tease and please him. We tried the golden shower thing again. In the actual shower this time. Neither of us could stop laughing long enough to pee on the other.
But not everything turned out sunshine and rainbows. There were unexpected consequences.
Late one windy night as we walked back home from the Sushi place up the hill, we ran into Jimmy walking the opposite direction. Matthew stopped and glared at him. Jimmy crossed the street to get out of our way. After he’d stared the kid down, Matthew grabbed my hand and pulled my into a walled off yard, the place was obviously under renovation and no one was around. In the shadows he pushed me down on my knees, unzipped and began pissing on me, starting with my breasts, moving all around and ending on my face, in my mouth again. I couldn’t believe it. I walked home soaked, cold, humiliated, and mad as hell. Matthew looked pleased with himself. He kept insisting he was just marking his territory as if it was all so normal. We sure had an argument that night. In the end I forgave him after he gave me a full body massage.
He’s done it a few times since. Twice because we saw Jimmy and and once when I got hit on at a bar on Noeh.
So that’s it then. The long term consequences of my actions are that we have a better sex life and stronger relationship. The only side-effect seems to be Matthew’s uncontrollable need to 'mark his territory.'
It could have been a lot worse.
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/wife-lovers/butterfly-effects-part-2.aspx">Butterfly Effects (part 2)</a>