Jealousy

by Laran Mithras

  She moaned longingly, wrapped entirely in whatever fantasy of my friend was playing through her mind, eyes closed with the vision, and whispered with a quaver, "Oh yes, fuck me, Bend. Fuck me… Hurry…"

  Hurry? She knew it was getting later in the day and I should be home soon. That I was home a little earlier than normal and had caught her made me wonder if this had occurred before. How many times had she fucked herself and thought of Bend? Of Donny?

  I didn't have to say anything. She opened her eyes as she was cumming and erupted into a volcano of flailing limbs, shocked gasps, and effusive apologies. "I'm sorry, Clark! I… I… Oh my god! I…"

  My fingers strained as they curled into knotted fists. The dildo lay on the bedspread, covered in her juices – mute with the testimony of her excitement thinking about Bend.

  She was pale and shivering, worry wrinkling her eyes at the corners and causing her lips to quiver. "I was just… How long were you standing—"

  "Long enough." I could say no more. My gut was so twisted that I wavered on my feet.

  She ran to me and clutched my arm. She swallowed several times.

  I shook my arm to be rid of her. "Don't touch me."

  Water wavered in her eyes as if in sympathy with the wobbling of my knees. "I'm sorry, Clark. I love you—"

  "Sounds like you love Bend."

  Her frantic head shake was punctuated by her intense look of pleading. "No, that's not true. I…"

  "You just fucked yourself thinking about him."

  She was shaking her head again, saying something…

  But I wasn't listening. My flat statement had produced a surge where I hadn't felt anything in… months. A slight stirring in my pants where only numbness had lived for so long left me speechless. My stomach wanted to heave, but here I stood in my own bedroom and experienced a tickle of movement in my formerly lifeless dick.

  I swallowed and looked away from her.

  She tugged on my arm. "I'm sorry, really…"

  I pulled away, ashamed that the circumstance had produced the one thing I most desired now in my life.

  Funny how priorities change so suddenly.

  I had desperately wanted a young wife I could sexualize. I had gotten that, but now my number one priority was getting an erection. I turned away from her, covering my shame with words. I hoped that my voice would keep her attention on my face, though I realized that if she looked at my pants, she wouldn't see anything noticeable – it had been just a strong tickle. "You do this all the time, don't you?"

  "No! Well… yes. But not about Bend, really. I'm serious."

  I knew. My lips felt packed with wood and glue. "You imagine Donny."

  Her silence was her affirmation.

  I sat down on the bed with my back to the drying dildo. As before, I felt as if I was falling. I felt that all the time, really, except now it was…

  Less.

  I looked up at her wet and red face. "Actually, I don't care so much about him."

  She blinked. And again. Her chin jerked to the side a little. "Wh-what?" Her nakedness was blazing in front of me, even though she shivered with fear. Her pussy was puffy and excited – swollen from the imaginary fuck with my friend Bend.

  I stared at her pussy. I've been inside there… and so has her cousin. I strained at my muscles, producing a useless Kegel that accomplished nothing for my disappointing limpness. I shook my head slowly, admitting what I was feeling, "I… am not… so concerned about…"

  "About what?" She clamped onto my shoulder with a clammy hand cold and damp with nervous anxiety – more a grasp at steadiness than a gesture of reassurance to me.

  The word came reluctantly and tasted bitter, "Donny."

  "You… You…"

  I said sharply, petulantly, "I guess I could expect Donny. I mean, right? But Bend?"

  She let go of my shoulder as she fell in a barely controlled collapse to her knees in front of me. Her hands latched to my knees and I could feel the cold shake through my jeans. "I'm sorry, Clark. I'm sorry; it won't happen again. Seriously. It was just…"

  "Just what? Why imagine him? My best friend?"

  Her lower lip quivered and her eyes searched frantically around the room for the words she was missing in her head. "I… I guess because he is your friend. Because he's so nice. And he's so cute."

  I leaned forward as if I was about to topple off the bed. Maybe I was, but I shifted the move into placing my forehead down onto my palms and sighing. I sat there, in almost the famous thinking pose and just tried to breathe.

  She whispered, "I'm sorry."

  It was just a toy, not real. Not real. I couldn't even get it up; was it really any of her fault that she imagined someone who could actually fuck her properly?

  She shook my knees. "I'm sorry, okay? Don't be mad; it was just a stupid fantasy. I didn't mean to say his name…"

  I cringed, knowing that she really meant that she'd just hide it better next time. "Donny isn't enough for you?"

  Her silence again hurt me deeply. I looked up at her. Her face was a deep red and her lips quivered with uncertainty. She tried to shake her head, but the move died away. "It was just… I'm sorry."

  The anxiety in me strained and quivered until my muscles suddenly released like water and my body flopped over onto the bed. The dildo rolled at the move and touched the back of my head. I heaved a great sigh and mourned my life. I shook my head weakly. "Never mind."

  She crawled up and sat next to me on her knees. "Clark?"

  "I guess I can't… blame you; I haven't been the man you need…"

  "Don't say that. I'm sure… it's… only temporary." Her words trailed off though with the certainty that they were mere hollow refrains after all this time.

  "I guess… Donny…" I started laughing with lamentation.

  "What? What's wrong, Clark?"

  I stared at the bedspread up close and mumbled, "You and your cousin…"

  "What?"

  "I guess it's all right… You grew up with him."

  "Well, yes…"

  "You were close. You watched each other develop. It's not like you… love him like you love me."

  Her eyes lit with feverish hope. "Right! Exactly! I mean, I do love him, but just as family, not like you."

  I nodded. "And you made a pact long before I came along. I shouldn't…"

  "Shouldn't what?"

  "I shouldn't blame him or you or…"

  She waited for me to finish, looking at me intently with question and curiosity.

  I lifted up onto one elbow and slumped against it. "I suppose I should thank him for fucking you."

  "What, at the reunion?" Her confusion had misinterpreted me.

  However, at the thought of that event, the slapping sounds replayed in my head – strong, lusty, sure. She had been fucked good and deep, hard and where she needed it. She had been fucked by the only person… No, no. She had been fucked by the right person. It had sounded… beautiful.

  In a flash of realization, I lamented now that I hadn't been in there with her to hold her hand. In another explosive crack of cognizance, I shot upright and then to my feet on the floor. I tore frantically at my belt and jeans until I slid them off and stood naked from the waist down. I lifted my shirt, flexing my pelvic muscles as I stared at my somewhat swollen cock.

  The surge of blood felt like a trickle through my dick, but it was a feeling I had lacked now for too long. Even the slight sensation was enough to send my heart hammering with excitement. I gripped the shaft and tugged on it in a frenzy of impending success. "Come on, do it. Wake up!"

  Tessa shared my enthusiasm. "Can I help?"

  "Just let me…" I tugged desperately.

  "What were you thinking of, Donny? Or Bend?"

  Her cousin's name elicited a tingle. The mention of my friend caused a surge. I gasped, trying to stroke the semi-soft shaft to hardness. The head flopped everywhere and the tingling tickle was maddeningly promising an erection any second… except that it didn't harden
any more than what it was. I gasped, "Donny…" I didn't want to admit that my friend had caused my reaction because that wasn't entirely true. Thinking of Donny had caused it, although Bend's mention had made an even bigger impression.

  She coaxed me, "You're okay with Donny and I… in the past?"

  "Yes. It seems… sweet."

  She began panting, placing her fingers down over her clit. "Yeah?"

  But it was mention of my friend that had really done it. Despite my desire not to be excited over what had happened with her calling his name, was the situation enough to rethink my stand? If Bend and my wife could cause an erection, was it worth pursuing to achieve hardness? Despite my overwhelming, grinding jealousy?

  I grasped at Donny, even though I suspected Bend was the answer. I couldn't shake my hatred of the idea of my wife cheating. I whispered with reluctant uncertainty, "You can… dildo to Donny… It's okay…" But it was Bend on my mind. I shook with a sudden surge and almost bent forward too far to stay standing. Almost pitching forward onto her, my half-swollen cock sent a dribble of cum out.

  Then another.

  Then a pitiful stream of defeat.

  CHAPTER 22

  I fought against the idea of my wife with Bend for several weeks. Unfortunately, my dick only responded when I let my focus on Donny wander instead to my friend.

  Tessa helped me as much as she could or dared, talking about her cousin while stroking me. Still, it only responded well when I closed my eyes and replayed her toying with herself and moaning Bend's name. It didn't get any more than half hard.

  I was at a vast turning point in my life and I knew it. With a sick feeling of realization, I knew I wasn't going to be successful as a man unless I gave my dick exactly what it wanted.

  No.

  No, it wasn't an issue of want, but rather need.

  I had to give it what it needed if I was going to once again sport an erection that would save my marriage.

  I had to imagine Bend.

  It was the only way.

  Having denied and fought for the two weeks only to find that my dick wasn't going to respond by just forced thoughts of Donny, I gave in and began thinking about Bend. Only then did I find my semi-erections coming easier.

  My dick did not agree with my brain and if I wanted erections, I could no longer side with my brain and expect to get hard. I had to side with my dick. At least I wasn't so murderously jealous about Donny anymore. I viewed him more as an unwanted fact of life that I just had to accept and get over – like an annoying relative who wouldn't go away, but I couldn't turn away because of family ties.

  "Tess, are you ready?" We were expected to attend Bend's housewarming bash. I was ambivalent about going - scared that I might get an erection seeing her flirt with Bend, and also excited that I might finally get fully hard. I didn't know if I could handle it, but I had to try.

  For the sake of my dick, if not my jealous mind.

  "Almost." She came into the bedroom from the bathroom, halter top in her hands. Her breasts stood freely and I admired their form. She was stretching out the halter top.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Stretching out the arm straps so it hangs looser."

  "Why are—"

  "Because you keep talking about how you like guys looking down my top."

  It had been a while since I had, but I didn't argue. That I was more focused on myself now didn't invalidate her assertion about the past.

  She shrugged it on and adjusted it.

  I frowned. "That's awful loose." Any swing or turn would expose her nipples.

  "Don't be a prude now, after saying how much—"

  "Yeah, but you can almost—"

  She gave me a look. "It's not that revealing, and all your friends will love it."

  I couldn't argue that at all, but it was just that I knew I'd be jealous if I saw guys looking down her top – even if I knew my dick wanted and liked it. The contradiction kept me quiet.

  She bounced a little on her feet. A nipple poked out briefly. She gave a satisfied smile and said, "Let's go."

  I eyed her miniskirt.

  She gave me a dour look of disapproval. I kept my silence and she nodded fractionally in satisfaction and appreciation.

  I wanted one thing. I wanted another. Those two things didn't match – couldn't match, and I was being ripped to shreds by it all. I wanted men to admire her, and by proxy me. But I was savagely possessive of her and didn't want them checking out my wife. She was mine. I wanted an erection and could only get one thinking about her with Bend, but I didn't want her cheating with someone. I wanted her to be mine, but had to admit that what she had going on with her cousin was something I couldn't and didn't want to alter. She was mine, but her cousin had claimed her before me. His claim was first, more valid and solid.

  I still fell, falling inside with every passing day that showed me yet another failure of my manhood. It had gotten so hard, so easily, for no apparent reasons when I was a teenager. Why couldn't it just spontaneously erect now? If it did, I might run around the park outside of our house with it jutting out in the open air – risking arrest – just to show the world and rejoice that I had gotten an erection.

  What was wrong with it?

  Bend's house was small, neat, trimmed, and what realtors called a "cozy cottage." In reality, it was a bungalow – a boxy tract house of the nicer sort when houses were built solid to last. The boxiness suggested the neat smallness of the late sixties or very early seventies that sported a large front lawn and large backyard as if to make up for the lack of living space inside. Such a house and arrangement could only be built when property values had been cheap, but houses more expensive. Modern homes were built on tiny lots, filled almost every available foot to squeeze out more interior space, and sporting postage stamp front and backyards.

  A commentary on people staying inside where in decades past they had spent more time outdoors sitting in the shade and having BBQs and exterior parties?

  Bend answered his door.

  I saw straight through to the backyard dominated by a large pool. "This was a pool party?"

  He ducked his head, shamed. "Hello to you, too. No, it isn't. The pool guy has some work to do on the pump. It's out of commission right now."

  Tessa pouted. "You'll have to invite us back for swimming. Clark won't let us go over to Jimmy's anymore."

  "Jimmy?"

  I followed Tessa inside past Bend. "Our neighbor."

  His eyes lit up sadly. "Oh, that guy."

  I think my friend was jealous we had other friends.

  He blinked after my wife as if stunned by her presence.

  It did not elicit a twitch in my pants and instead I worked my jaw, clamping my teeth down against each other. Wasn't this what I hoped for? His attention to cause a reaction in my manhood? I know I didn't want it, but I hoped for it.

  Tessa's voice held a note of delight. "Mickey!"

  Bend's friend wrapped my wife up in a friendly hug that almost lifted her from her feet. He released her fast enough for my tastes, but the quick hug still rankled me. His grip had caused her skirt to ride up a little, exposing the very bottoms of her butt cheeks to me and Bend.

  I heard him swallow next to me.

  Coming in through the open sliding glass door was the guy with the redheaded, big-titted wife. She smiled brightly at Tessa and licked her lips.

  My wife hugged both. "Steven? And Parris, right?"

  The redhead murmured, "Right on. Nice to see you here." Her eyes said more if her lips didn't.

  Steven's eyes drifted down my wife's form and his smile was enough to make me want to bash his face in with something hard. When he had the sense to acknowledge me, my expression must have been sour enough to startle him; he turned away and went out back.

  Bend's friend from the job party the previous year gave my wife a slow hug that suggested more intimacy and familiarity than he deserved or had a right to portray.

  She giggled. "Hey, Pete." She cast
a fast look back at me and then down to the floor before facing him again. He still had one arm around her and his hand rested almost past the curve of her waist where her butt began. Almost.

  A twinge in my dick alarmed me and I began moving to do anything other than feed it with my musings.

  Pete finished his greeting with a quick peck to my wife's neck, just below her ear.

  I froze, feeling a larger twitching in my jeans. It was a spot she found very ticklish and sensitive – sensual even. Her breath caught and her fingers trembled on his arm. If I knew her as well as I did, then shivers had just run down her back and tingled her pussy; she had described it to me before.

  Pete let go of her, but not before brushing his hand down her butt cheek in a move that was obvious to me: he was checking to see if she was wearing panties. His smile as he looked away widened.

  At the same time, my dick stiffened. I tried to gauge how much by the pressure against it from my jeans, but knew that it was probably only a quarter hard. Only because of the stiffening in my pants did I hold my tongue. Could I shut up and suffer the guy groping my wife if it gave me an erection? Was it worth it?

  And there I was, knowing that my dilemma was as simple as that: I had to choose between my erection and my jealousy. One way led me to recovering my manhood. The other way was an endless drop into ruin.

  I saw Tessa's eyes drop to Pete's crotch as he was turning away. She stayed there, looking at his butt, too. A considering look of appreciation crossed her features before she remembered I was there, looked at me, and blanched. Her eyes widened in alarm at being caught and she scurried out back.

  Bend stood next to me and shook his head. He breathed, "You're one lucky bastard, Clark."

  I wanted to rage at him, shake him, slap him several times to make him understand that she shouldn't be admired for being flirty. But his eyes were misty and wide, gazing after her with enough adoration that it stroked my pride. How could I argue against him? Tessa certainly was sexy and cute. Not as beautiful as Parris, but definitely just as sexy.