The Boyfriend

by Abigail Barnette

  “I have an idea.”

  Whenever one of the men in my life said, “I have an idea,” that idea was usually to my benefit.

  “Stand up,” he instructed. I did, reluctantly.

  “But it feels so good to sit on your cock,” I whined.

  “This will feel good, too,” he promised, turning my body perpendicular to the camera. “Kneel on the seat, there. In front of the jet.”

  I made an outraged noise. “How did you know about the jets? That’s a clit-owner’s thing.”

  “Everyone knows about the jets, Sophie,” he admonished. “Now...lean over...”

  I straddled the powerful stream of water and positioned myself as he instructed, pillowing my hands on my arms. I wasn’t exactly going to get a lot of water action; the backward angle of the seat interfered. My breasts dipped in the water, my ass tilted up perfectly for him to brush the wide tip of his cock over my opening. He grabbed the lube and pumped it into his hands, then stroked it over his erection.

  “Are you going to play with yourself or are you going to play with me?” I demanded, giving my butt a little wiggle.

  “You wanted to have bathtub sex,” He reminded me. “That requires extra preparation.”

  I caught my bottom lip between my teeth and giggled in anticipation.

  He teased my opening with the head of his cock, slicking it up and down my folds far longer than it should have taken to find the mark. I tried to push back on him, and he withdrew.

  “You’re so impatient. How do you ever manage to sub for us?” he asked. Then, he pushed inside, deep, and I arched my back, moaning in relief.

  “That...mmm. I will never get tired of that,” he murmured, leaning down to rest his forehead against my shoulder. “How you squeeze me so tightly when I first get inside...like you never want me to pull out again.”

  “That’s because I don’t,” I said with a breathless laugh. “Oh my god, you’re so hard.”

  He pulled back, all the way out until just the very tip rested at my opening. Then, painfully slow, he slid all the way back in. He placed one knee on the seat, between mine, and gently repositioned my hips. “Lower. Like that...just a bit...”

  The water from the jet hit my clit perfectly. I gasped in surprise.

  “Stay there.” He flexed inside me. “Stay there until I say you’re finished coming.”

  You could take the Dom out of the scene, but you couldn’t take the scene out of the Dom. But I wasn’t going to complain. I loved getting off with water. The tales that our detachable shower heads could tell...

  But it also never took long, so I was on the edge before I knew it. Out of habit, I held myself back and cried, “Please, may I come?”

  “Of course you can. Come for me, Sophie.”

  It took only those words to unleash a torrent of pleasure so overwhelming that I slapped the edge of the tub and screamed, “Oh, fuck!”

  He hadn’t moved. He stayed buried in me while I twisted and writhed. “Do it again.”

  “I...I...” I didn’t have a choice, was what I wanted to tell him. But he already knew that. “I’m coming! I’m coming!”

  “I know you are,” he whispered in my ear. “I can feel it. I can feel your pussy fluttering all around me.”

  His voice wouldn’t be heard on the recording, but it would be seared into my memory every time I watched the video. He held my hips and moved me slowly, never letting me escape the powerful stream from the jet. It didn’t matter that we would show this to Neil, later. We’d officially gone past the point of exhibitionism and into our own world, lost in each other.

  “I want you to come again,” El-Mudad purred against my ear, one hand wrapping around my throat. “I want you to come until you can’t stand it anymore. I want it to become agony for you. Agony that you crave, even while your body pleads for you to stop. Will you do that for me, Sophie? Will you let me feel that?”

  “Yes!” I cried, my fingers cramping from how tightly I held the edge of the tub. The next orgasm took a little longer, but the slow strokes of his cock made me feel every millimeter of my cunt.

  “How many, Sophie?” he asked. “How many can you stand?”

  Again, I was too used to being his sub. “As many as you want! Oh, god!”

  My thighs quaked as a fourth orgasm tensed all my muscles painfully. I instinctively jerked my hips back, but he forced me into the path of that wicked water again. My clit throbbed worse than it had under the onslaught of slaps I’d received. My pussy spasmed and twitched around his impossibly hard shaft.

  “I have to fuck you.” His voice broke, and his control shattered. He drove deep, pushing me forward. “Please, can I fuck you hard?”

  “Yes!” I nearly shouted, even though it required him to lift me away from the jet.

  He gripped my hips again and growled, “Hang on.”

  Holy shit, he wasn’t kidding. He pounded into me fast, battering my pussy with his cock and stealing my breath away. My chin bumped the edge of the tub, and he grabbed my hair to pull my head up so it wouldn’t happen again.

  “Your pussy feels so good,” he groaned. “It feels so fucking good.”

  The water in the tub lapped furiously with his rapid thrusts, sloshing over the edges. When it seemed like he couldn’t go any faster, any harder, any deeper, he somehow managed to do all three. The pressure on my g-spot was too much; I couldn’t have avoided my orgasm if I’d wanted to.

  The moment I started to cool down, he pulled out. “Let me come in your mouth, Sophie.”

  I turned and sank onto the seat in a heartbeat, my mouth obediently open for him. He thrust the head of his cock into my mouth, and I took him in the rest of the way, pumping him in my fist while he emptied himself down my throat with what could only be described as a growl.

  I choked a little, and some of his cum rolled from my mouth and down my chin. After a few last, slowing thrusts, he pulled out and tapped the head against my lips.

  He staggered back a step and fell heavily into the water, breathing hard.

  “I’ll turn off the camera,” I said. I didn’t wipe my face. I waded over and reached up for my phone. Holding it close enough for a selfie, I swiped my bottom lip with my finger and sucked El-Mudad’s cum from it. Then I blew Neil a little kiss and stopped recording.

  “Come here,” El-Mudad said, and I placed the phone out of harm’s way before joining him. To my surprise, he pulled me onto his lap to straddle him and pressed his still-somewhat hard cock against the opening of my cunt. I guided him inside with one hand, and I leaned forward, tucking my head into the hollow between his shoulder and neck. Though he wasn’t as rock hard as before, he still pulsed with post-orgasm sensitivity that I could feel. I shivered.

  “I want you again,” he whispered. “I want to stay inside you forever.”

  “I don’t think you can manage again right now,” I teased him. “You looked like you were going to black out after that.”

  “A bit of a headrush is all.” He gripped my ass and moved me, just a little so as not to slip out. “Will you come for me, Sophie? One last time tonight, will you let me feel it?”

  I shuddered at the idea of even touching my brutally overstimulated clit. But the way he asked, as though it was the only thing he wanted in the world...

  How could I deny him?

  I reached between us and spread my labia open, finding the swollen, aching bud there. I circled it with my fingertips slowly; going too fast would just numb me. El-Mudad bent his head to my breasts, nibbling at my skin and sucking my nipples into his mouth. He urged me along to my climax with his teeth and tongue, and when I was close, so close that I’d begun to pump my hips despite the danger of losing him, he reached up and cupped the back of my head. “Look at me, Sophie.”

  I opened my eyes and held his gaze while I climbed closer and closer. His eyes captivated me; they were almost hypnotic in the richness and depth, his irises like silken threads of brown embroidered on cloth of gold.

  “I
love you,” he whispered, and I felt the truth of it in the deepest part of my soul. I held onto his shoulders with one hand and cried out with pleasure as I crested the wave of my release.

  My vision swam. I wasn’t sad. The intensity of the moment had just knocked the wind out of me. He reached up and brushed a tear from my cheek with his thumb, then brought it to his lips.

  I leaned my forehead against his. “I love you. So much.”

  We got out and dried off, then dressed in the comfy clothing I had suggested. Instead of hot chocolate, El-Mudad braved the espresso maker to whip up some cappuccinos for us. We pulled the blankets from the guest beds and shuffled out onto the balcony. Below us, a raucous party seemed to be taking place in the Grand Canal. I was totally content to miss it. We pulled our chairs close together and cocooned ourselves in the blankets, holding our cups of coffee for warmth. When the sky over the city illuminated with fireworks, El-Mudad leaned over to kiss me.

  “Happy New Year, Sophie. I can’t wait to spend it with the two of you.”

  “Me, too.” I leaned my head on his shoulder with a happy sigh. “And hopefully many, many more.”

  Returning to New York after such a long time away felt like taking my bra off at the end of a long day. We’d left Marco Polo airport early—after another harrowing extended skid across the lagoon—and arrived home in time for dinner. Though I was back on standard time, going from boat to plane to helicopter had taken a lot out of me.

  “I’m going to sleep in until Thursday,” I said, stretching my arms over my head as Neil and El-Mudad loaded the plates into the dishwasher together. The sight of them doing something so domestic gave me love butterflies, but I wasn’t sure if they were from the wholesome family scene before me or just because I hated loading the dishwasher myself.

  “You could leave those for Julia,” I reminded them both, but El-Mudad shook his head.

  “It bothers me to leave such a mess all night,” he said with a smooth shrug. “You know, we could get a full-time housekeeping staff here.

  “Sophie and I decided against it a long time ago,” Neil said, sounding almost proud of that. “We value our privacy too much.”

  “Especially now that we have a delicate situation.” I knew everyone who worked for us had signed non-disclosure agreements, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

  Both of them looked at me, wide-eyed, and I realized what I’d said.

  “No, no!” I waved my arms. “You’re thinking of a delicate condition.” I mimed a pregnant belly. “I meant the thing with Valerie and Laurence.”

  “Feel free to stop my heart, Sophie!” Neil slapped a palm to his chest. “I take it you’ve filled El-Mudad in on this delicate situation?”

  “She did. And without using any particularly graphic language. I was very proud of her.” El-Mudad winked at me. Then he turned reluctantly serious. “Do you both believe that Laurence might mean to do us harm?”

  “It sounds so villainous when you phrase it that way,” Neil said, turning to retrieve the dishwasher soap tabs from the baby-proofed cabinet beneath the sink.

  El-Mudad watched Neil struggle for a moment, then stepped in and sprung the mechanism. “You’re truly helpless, my love.”

  “It’s feigned helplessness.” Neil straightened and swatted El-Mudad on the butt. “So you’ll feel obligated to stay with me.”

  Trying to keep things on topic, I cut in as though our conversation had never drifted sideways. “I don’t think Valerie would let Laurence persuade her to do anything in a legal sense. And I really don’t know how she would contest the custody arrangement.”

  “There is no custody arrangement. We were granted guardianship by Emma and Michael,” Neil pointed out, closing the dishwasher drawer and brushing his hands together. “There. Now we can go put our feet up.”

  Maybe he just wasn’t interested in discussing the issue at the moment, but this was about Olivia. It was important. “Right, but can Valerie sue us for custody on the grounds that, what? She changed her mind about being okay with it? It’s been almost four years.”

  Four years. Four horrible years since Emma and Michael died. It seemed like we’d been carrying the pain for a lot longer.

  “I shouldn’t worry about it too much,” Neil said, walking to the swinging door. He held it open and gestured for us to come with him.

  “It’s not going to keep me awake at night,” I said with a shrug as I passed him. “But I don’t like the possibility.”

  “There’s no real possibility,” Neil assured me. “She’ll find something obnoxious about Laurence and let him go any time now. It usually happens between the three-to-five-year range.”

  El-Mudad glanced at me, and I looked down at my feet as we walked.

  “That’s not very fair,” I said softly. “Don’t mock Valerie just because she hasn’t been lucky in love in the past.”

  “I’m not mocking her,” Neil insisted. “It’s just a pattern I’ve noticed since—“

  “Since you broke her heart?” El-Mudad finished for him.

  That set Neil back. It took him a moment to respond. “Valerie will do whatever Valerie will do. She has Olivia’s best interests at heart. Laurence doesn’t hold any sway over that.”

  “Now, that I believe.” Clash though we might, I couldn’t help but admire Valerie’s iron will and protectiveness over her loved ones.

  “He may have some influence in the future, though,” El-Mudad said, without any hint of the nervous humor that had colored the conversation so far. “Perhaps, when they marry.”

  Neil laughed. “They’re not going to get married. I can’t even imagine Valerie married. She would hate it. Utterly hate it. And the whole prospect of marriage horrifies her, anyway. You should have heard the haranguing I got when I announced my engagement to Elizabeth.”

  Yeah, sure, that was because she hated all marriage and not just your marriage to another woman.

  “You’re wrong.” I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to get it out. “Valerie and Laurence eloped.”

  Neil stopped walking. “What?”

  “She asked me not to tell you. They’re not making it public, yet,” I explained, hoping he would view my loyalty to Valerie as a plus and not a mark against my honesty. “I was mad about that, actually. She seemed to think that you were going to have some big, dramatic reaction...you aren’t are you?”

  “Afi! Sophie! El-Mudad!” Olivia’s high-pitched shrieks interrupted us, ricocheting off the walls like audible shrapnel. I didn’t begrudge her excitement. I cherished it because she was thrilled to see me after even a few minutes apart to get ready for bed. But it was going to take me some time to recalibrate my hearing to tolerate toddler screams. She raced down the windowed hall toward us, her hair damp from her bath, her tiny body clad in fuzzy fleece pajamas. “I’m ready for night-night!”

  Neil scooped her up. “I see that. Give Afi a kiss.”

  She complied, then reached out for me. I took her into my arms, but she seemed to have gained sixty pounds over Christmas. “You’re getting too big to pass around!”

  “Oh yes, I’m very big,” she confirmed. “Grandpa Larry is going to put a brick on my head.”

  “Is he, now?” Neil asked, his smile stiff. “I didn’t realize we were calling him Grandpa Larry.”

  “Yes, we are. Because of the wedding,” Olivia said breezily.

  Horror and shock dawned on Neil’s face. “Is that wedding you’ve been talking about?”

  Olivia nodded proudly and held a finger to her lips. “But it’s a secret. You have to shhh about it.”

  “I promise, I won’t tell a soul.” Neil took her back and hugged her tight. “Tell El-Mudad goodnight, and I’ll take you to the nursery.”

  “Night-night,” she called over Neil’s shoulder, blowing a kiss to El-Mudad.

  As they walked away, he and I stared at each other in silent dread.

  “Do you think he’s going to have that big, dramatic reaction you mentioned?” he asked fin
ally, nodding down the hall.

  “I think you just witnessed the beginning of it. The calm before the storm.” I got a sudden, stabbing headache. I didn’t have to doubt that Neil loved El-Mudad and me. Not to mention Olivia. But some horrible, jealous voice in the back of my head insisted that my husband was more in love with Valerie, that he would always be, and that I was just another ex-wife that had to be waited through, the way she’d tried to wait out Elizabeth.

  “Let’s go to the living room,” El-Mudad suggested, still holding my hand as we walked. “We can sit down and talk about this like rational adults.”

  Unlike our den, the living room was a bit more formal. There was no television, but there was a great view of one of our patios. The furniture was covered, but the raised fire pit could have been so cozy, even on a cold night like this one.

  I sat beside El-Mudad on the couch, snuggling myself into the corner. Neil had left a book on the end table. The Accidental President. I opened the cover and flipped a few pages before I put it back. Truman wasn’t particularly interesting to me, but Neil always seemed to be reading something about this or that historical politician.

  He passed through the walkway between the living room and foyer and came to a halt at the sight of us. “Ah. There you are.”

  “Here we are,” I confirmed. Maybe the Valerie and Laurence thing was done? That would be a fucking miracle.

  “I was just going to step away and call Valerie. To congratulate her,” he clarified without being asked to.

  I stared at him, silent.

  “I thought Sophie said that Valerie was waiting to tell you,” El-Mudad said coolly. “It seems as though you should wait. Unless it doesn’t matter to you that it will look as though Sophie broke her confidence. Considering their history...”

  Neil waved that off. “Oh, I’ll just tell them Olivia let it slip.” After a pause, he changed tactics. “And you know, I don’t think it’s at all appropriate for her to ask Olivia to hide things from us.”

  “You’re right,” El-Mudad agreed. “And that’s a concern you can raise with her some other time.”