by K T Morrison
“It is, isn’t it?”
He put his hand over his chest and said, “I think my heart is in a vice right now, but I don’t know…”
“Don’t know what?” she said, and that hand that scratched circles on his back embraced him now, and she pressed her naked body to him.
“Is it weird that I really do like this?”
“No, why?”
“I feel like it should be weird.”
“We’re making our baby, Sean.”
“I know, but it’s not just about our baby, this is so… Arousing. For me…”
“Oh,” she said, and they both stared at the floor for a while before she said, “That’s a really good thing though, I think.”
“Just don’t hurt my feelings,” he said.
She said, “Sean, the last thing I ever want to do is hurt your feelings.” Now she kissed his neck.
He said, “You didn’t want me to masturbate in the bed.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You didn’t want me to accidentally—”
“Don’t say that. Don’t say that… I mean, I guess it occurred to me. I just didn’t want you to do that. I wanted to do it for you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“But I want to.”
He felt warmth spreading from his heart, the vice slowly scissoring away—not gone for good, but just letting some of that blood flow again. He straightened, and his eyes darted down, Carly’s following. His arousal was fierce still. It hurt. On his blue pajama pants, the point of his erection pushed itself out and there was a dark blue circle of wet. He pulled the waistband down and showed her.
She said, “I’ll do it for you,” and with one hand between her own legs, reached to touch him and he stopped her, his turn to grab her wrist.
He said, “Would you… Use your mouth on me…?”
“On this…?” she said, motioning with her chin to the thing he held.
“Yes,” he said. “Like you did with Hollis.”
“You want that?”
“Yes. Please, Carly.”
She smiled, one side of her cheek pulling up and her eyes narrowing. She said, “I’d love to, Sean.”
She turned to face him, kissed the hairy scruff between his nipples, kissed him above his navel as she lowered to her knees, squatting between his legs. She pulled his pajama pants down lower and helped him to step one foot out, his meager manhood bouncing before her eyes.
She held the base of his erection between two fingers and thumb, looking at it, and he felt a sudden wave of self-consciousness. He’d always been enough for her before, but this evening she held something truly astounding. He felt strangely belittled. But she made no comment, only closed her eyes and opened her mouth, let him sink inside.
He’d never been in her mouth before, never been in anyone’s mouth before. He didn’t know what to expect, but what he found was incredible. The fact that she would do this was so dirty. And he wanted to know his wife’s dirty side.
She sunk him deep, lips right down into his pubic hair, drew back, plunged again and that was all he could stand. That soft, slippery, velvet feel of his wife’s tongue along the underside of his cock made him explode.
He saw her flinch as he shot off inside her mouth with incredible force.
11
Sean woke with morning light flooding the bedroom. Face down in the bed, he lay on the right-hand side where his wife would normally sleep. As his eyes grew adjusted to the bright, he blinked, raised up on his elbows to look to the left. Carly lay between him and her donor. All three of them were naked, Carly peacefully sleeping, face placid, her breaths coming in soft puffs from her pouted lips. He wondered what she dreamed. Under the thin skin of her eyelids he could see her eyes flitting left and right.
Hollis was awake, laying on his back staring at the ceiling, looking lost in thought. His hand came up, and he caressed the muscle of his chest. He blinked some more; the light catching the golden shades of brown in his dark eyes. He inhaled deeply, his head turning in the pillow to regard Sean. They didn’t say anything to each other, merely looked at each other with calm trepidation.
Hollis sat up, the silky sheets sliding over his dark skin and gathering around his waist. He rubbed his face then looked out the window.
Carly finally stirred, her eyes flickering open, going round and wide, closing then doing it over again as she came further awake. She inhaled and moaned; the moan became a laugh and she stretched under the covers. Sean watched her legs stretch out, and her toes make tents of the sheets at the foot of the bed.
Carly saw her lover sitting next to her, and her thin white hand rested on the center of his broad back. She said, “Good morning.”
Hollis repeated her groaning chuckle now and eyed her over his shoulder. A smirk spread, his plump smile crawling up to one side, indenting his cheek.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice a deep baritone that sounded striking in the quiet stillness of the early-morning bedroom.
Her hand caressed him in circles now, her thumb kneading his muscle. She said, “How did you sleep?”
He turned at the hips, reached a hand around to hold hers. He said, “Great. How did you sleep?”
“I was out cold.”
“I was too,” he said.
“I feel so tired this morning,” Carly sighed, “but it’s the good kind of tired.”
Sean watched and bit his lip, wondering how long it would take before his wife remembered her husband was in the bed with them.
Hollis said, “I’m starving.”
Another appreciative groan from Carly. “I’m so starving too.”
Yes, you both worked up an appetite…
Hollis watched her now, the two of them looking into each other’s eyes and not say anything. After a long moment, Hollis said, “You think it took?”
She shrugged, showed him a pleasant but noncommittal expression. “It might have.”
“We’ve got more time.”
“I need to eat first,” she moaned and hid her face.
Hollis chuckled. Now his eyes moved up to regard Sean. He said, “What do you say? You hungry too?”
Sean thought about it, waiting for Carly to turn and see him. Really see him. He watched her profile as her head turned on the pillow and she smiled at him.
He said to her, “You want to order something in?”
Carly purred, turned in the bed until her knees pressed his hip. She said, “Sounds good.”
Hollis said, “Let’s go out.”
Now Carly was turning away again. “Go out?”
“Yes, let’s go out. Let’s get some fresh air and stretch our legs. Let’s get some good cuisine, I’m buying.”
Carly’s legs stretched under the sheets again, and she rolled to her other side, her knees pressing against Hollis now. She said, “You’ll take us out?”
Hollis said, “Where would you like to go?”
She said, “I need about four pounds of good, healthy food…”
They got dressed after showering—each taking their turn in the bathroom but making it quick—and half an hour later all three of them were getting out of an Ottobot near Houston Street. Hollis said he knew a place that Carly would like. Sean wondered how the hell this guy thought he would know what his wife liked already…
The restaurant was an Indian place plugged into a former Jewish delicatessen in the Old Ward, and Carly really did like it.
The old art déco building had been stripped and gutted, but its old-feel features were still there. Out front, the neon letters proclaiming DELICATESSEN remained, curved around the blunt-nose corner-entrance. Instead of pictures on the wall showing celebrity chefs and politicians, now it was paintings of Hindu gods and a large photo of an old man with glasses and a bed sheet that he was sure was Mahatma Gandhi. It had a decidedly British flavor too that you didn’t often see in Indian places these days—but Hollis was right, his Old Ward neighborhood had a certain aged authenticity you just didn’t
get to see anymore.
The staff knew Hollis, and as they came in, husband-and-wife owners gathered at the bustling counter with big smiles to greet him. He took the menus from them in a very familiar way, smiling and talking about the weather, shouting over the busy crowd, and he ordered a pot of black tea and a plate of puris before they even sat down.
It was the wife that escorted them through the restaurant, packed this time of day, standing room only at the lunch counter that once served pastrami sandwiches and pickles.
Hollis attracted attention, and Carly was up front—he wondered if she was smiling, feeling the influential man’s hand on the small of her back. Sean brought up the rear, mostly avoiding eye contact with the seated patrons but regarding them from his periphery.
They were brought to a banquette at the back, in a raised section about two feet above the main floor. Carly stepped up carefully, and Hollis paused behind her with his hand still on her back, guiding her to go first into the booth.
Carly had dressed casually, but still dressed up properly in a shirt and sweater combo and a wool skirt. She wore leggings and her loafers were polished till they gleamed.
She made a funny face as she sat down and slid herself to the apex of the banquette. He asked her, “You all right?”
She made a funny snarling sort of grimace and whispered, “I’m a little tender down there.”
He stifled a groan and rested his hand over his stomach. There was something that charged him up knowing she still felt the effects of having sex with this big man last night; that he left her with more than his seed deposited inside her, he left her with experience, he left her feeling what he’d done to her.
He said, “I hope you’re all right. I hope you’re not hurting.”
Hollis slid to sit on her opposite side and he said, “What’s wrong?”
Carly moved closer to him, said, “Oh, nothing. I was just telling Sean I’m a little sensitive.”
“Something bothering you?”
Sean said, “No, she means downstairs.”
Hollis looked puzzled.
Carly got close to him and cupped her hand to the side of his head and whispered in his ear.
Hollis’s eyebrows raised as Carly related to him that his size and vigor had left her tender this morning.
Hollis said, “Hold on,” and he raised a hand. The waiter was there within seconds, and Hollis asked for a glass of water and two aspirin.
Carly said, “ASA is natural—thank you.”
He patted her arm, and without asking her to, Carly hooked hers underneath his and they hugged their bodies together for a moment, Carly putting her cheek on his shoulder.
She said, “Don’t worry about me. I actually feel amazing this morning.”
“Amazing?” Sean said, opening the menu, its stiff spine crackling.
“Blissful,” she sighed, and opened up her own menu.
He set his down. “Blissful? What does that mean?”
She saw what her husband might have inferred from what she said and her expression went serious. She set her menu down and rested her hands flat, her wedding band winking. She said, “Blissful, Sean. I think we just conceived our baby.”
He nodded and pushed away the sullen expression that wanted to weigh down his features. “All right,” he said.
Hollis said, “You okay, Sean? This is hard?”
He shook his head no, eyes turned down and reading the breakfast entrées.
Carly said, “He’s okay. He likes it.”
His eyes darted up to see her with the menu up to her face her eyes turned down, oblivious she was revealing that bit of personal and private information.
“Carly,” he said, his tone scolding.
Her eyes flitted up, her mouth looked shocked. She said, “Oh, sorry. I thought that was nice…”
Hollis said, “I think it’s cool. Cool that you like it.”
Sean said, “You think it’s cool?” He bit at the inside of his cheek.
Hollis hadn’t even opened his menu, but he tented his fingers over top of it and slid it around in a circle over the place mat. He said, “You’re a big man. A real big man.”
Sean couldn’t tell if he was being taunted or not. He waited for more.
Carly said, “He is a big man.”
Now he saw his wife watching him across the table and her expression was earnest.
“He’s so strong.”
He liked the adverb strong over big. Because he was not a big man compared to Hollis the hero, the genetic superstar who loomed at least a foot taller than him, hands twice the size of his, sexual equipment maybe three times as large in volume, perhaps four. But yes, he was strong.
Hollis said, “It’s not just Carly that got me here. I admire her. But it’s you, Sean, too. I admire that strength. You’re a strong man. A strong man will raise a strong child.”
This made Carly grin, her eyes gleaming wet under the shaded dome light over the table. She looked at him admiringly.
“Yeah?” he asked, kind of liking it now.
Carly said in the exact same tone: “Yeah.”
They’d wasted their time reading the menus because Hollis ordered for them, choosing five dishes for the whole table. Dhoklas, puttus, vellayapams—or something like that—and a whole bunch of other things he didn’t recognize; plus more tea, some juice, and lots of chutneys.
Mostly they chatted about the weather and tiptoed around politics until the food arrived. The items were set in steaming platters in the center of the table and Hollis metered out the hot plates for them to serve themselves. But he was the one who put the items on Carly’s plate, and she asked what each one was, and Hollis would tell her what the ingredients were and how they were cooked, even sometimes talking about the history of the dish. They drank tea and ate. Hollis asked Carly if the aspirin made her feel better.
Carly made a pinched sort of smirk, and Sean could tell she’d clasped her thighs together under the table. She rolled her eyes up like she was thinking about it. She said, “Yeah, I feel better.”
With a mouthful of steamed idli, Hollis asked her, “Was I too rough?”
Carly put a spoonful of upma with green onions in her mouth and shook her head no. She pursed her lips and then fanned her mouth as her dish was too hot. They all waited for her, watched her chew and swallow. She took a sip of water and said, “No, not too rough at all. You are really good.”
“Thank you,” he said, smiling and watching the side of her face.
She tilted her head and rolled her eyes. “Really good,” she repeated.
Hollis rested a hand over top of hers. She moved a little closer till their shoulders touched. She said, “You’re just really big. Like a lot bigger than what I’m used to.”
Hollis nodded, took a bite of his idla. He said, “You can tell me whatever you need. Tell me to go slow, tell me to go fast, not to go too deep… Whatever you need, you just have to tell me and I’ll do it.”
Carly nodded, her eyes turned up as she was thinking. She said, “Okay,” and made a dry sort of croaking sound like she was hesitant to add something.
Sean cleared his throat and said, “What is it?”
To Hollis, she said, “You did everything right… I don’t think you can help your size…” Then she made a funny face, continued, “I think you should, you know, come inside me as deep as you can, anyway.”
Sean’s stomach turned over, and he had to ease back from the table. It affected Hollis too, he stared straight ahead and Sean would swear the man was repeating those words over again in his mind. Sean’s heart raced. Hollis set his fork down with a loud clank on his plate. He gathered up his napkin and wiped his mouth. Carly looked between them, watching both their faces. She said, “Is that wrong? Should I not say that?…”
Sean shrugged. It hurt him, stuck a blade inside him and twisted a little. But with that twist his wound was opened wide enough that liquid pleasure flooded where he’d been stabbed. He said, “No, it’s okay…”
His mind moved quick but his words were slow. He said, “That’s… why we’re here. That’s the… point… in the whole… thing.”
Hollis nodded along, watching Sean speak. He said, “Yes, Sean’s right… He’s right, it’s just hearing you say it…”
Her cheeks had flushed and her eyes shone brightly again. Her lips had parted and Sean was sure her breaths were coming quick. She said, “If I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry. I was just being…”
Hollis finished for her: “Clinical?”
She nodded, eyes still alert. “Clinical,” she agreed.
Hollis said, “Well it’s working.”
“What’s working?”
Hollis looked around the busy restaurant to make sure no one was watching. He put his hand over top of hers again then drew it underneath the edge of the table. Sean’s heart gave a loud thud like a slamming drawer. He bolted upright, his eyes wide. He watched as Hollis led his wife’s hand under the table in between his legs. He watched her shoulder move as her hand felt the man’s crotch. He watched his wife’s eyes as they gazed into Hollis’s. Watched his wife’s eyebrows raise high as she felt what the man wanted her to feel…
Now her head tracked to the right, and she regarded Sean with an awkward smile. Hand still squeezing under the table. She said, “Wow.”
Sean said, “Wow?”
Hand still between Hollis’s legs, she leaned close to Sean and whispered, “He’s hard right now.”
“I figured,” Sean said and while it hurt that this was happening, he knew the reason behind it, and he knew his wife’s sincerity. He said, “Do you think you should do it?…”
“Do you think we should?”
“Right now?… Yeah, we’ve only got this window, you’re supposed to do it is much as you can…”
“Here?” she said. Instead of outright saying No, she began to look around, wondering if she could get away with it. That made his heart race harder. The idea that his wife might do it had his pulse racing…
Hollis said, “What do you think?”