The Average American Marriage

by Chad Kultgen

  I see that the picture of the entire family we used to have up in the hallway has been taken down. In its place is a picture of Alyna and Andy in the park. It’s a picture I took but I’m not in it. I open one of my drawers in our dresser and absentmindedly toss some T-shirts into a duffel bag. I look at our bed and wonder if I’m ever going to sleep in it again. In the bathroom I grab some deodorant and razors to make it look like I’m actually taking things I’ll use, even though I’ve already replaced these things.

  I look next to the toilet and see that Alyna hasn’t gotten rid of my magazines yet. I wonder if this is a sign of hope that everything will work out or if it’s just something she hasn’t gotten around to yet.

  I turn the bedroom light off and head back out to the living room with my bag full of shit I don’t need. Alyna says, “You got everything?”

  I say, “Yeah.”

  She says, “I’ll e-mail you to let you know which storage place I end up using.”

  I wonder if this is a bluff. It seems crazy to me that she’s going to actually go through all the shit in the house, separate it into piles of mine and hers, and then hire movers to take all the shit she recognizes as mine to some storage place. I wonder about things like the couch or the chair that only I sit in. I don’t ask her about these things.

  Andy’s watching us. I whisper quietly enough so he won’t hear, “Do you think I could come by and just see the kids this weekend or something?”

  She whispers back, “I don’t know. I just don’t know. Do you have everything you need?”

  I say, “Yes.”

  She says, “Okay, then, you should be going.”

  I say, “Okay,” and give my son a hug and a kiss before I leave. I lean in to give Jane a kiss and this time Alyna allows it. As I’m walking out the door Andy says, “Work fast, Daddy.”

  I say, “I will,” then walk out the door.

  I hear Alyna lock it behind me then I walk to the end of the driveway and toss the duffel bag into the trash can.

  some chapter

  Blowjob Ass Cramp

  I wake up to Holly stroking my cock. I reach down and start rubbing her clit until I can feel her pussy get wet, then I finger her a little bit. She starts fucking my finger, which is one of the hottest things she does. She actually grabs my hand and starts using it like a dildo, dictating the pace and strength with which I ram my fingers into her pussy.

  She takes my fingers out and goes down on me, flipping her own body around so she settles her ass right in my face, and after being awake for less than a minute I’m staring at the most perfect ass and pussy I’ve ever dealt with. This makes it difficult to remember that my life is falling apart.

  I lick her clit and she sucks my dick for a few minutes then she starts grinding her pussy on my face. I also find this incredibly hot. The momentum of her grinding causes us to slide slowly to the edge of the bed, and at some point I’m forced to hang one leg off and put my foot on the floor to support us so we don’t fall onto the ground.

  She stops sucking my dick and starts jerking me off, which I’ve come to know means that she’s about to cum. I grab her ass as hard as I can and pull her pussy down onto my face so I can eat her out properly while she cums, really get my whole mouth on it. I can tell by her moaning that she’s close and that’s when I feel it. A shooting pain tears through my left ass cheek. It’s so painful that not only can I not ignore it, but it causes me to throw Holly and her perfect pussy off my face and ball up in the fetal position on the bed.

  Holly says, “What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?”

  Through gritted teeth I manage, “No. I have a cramp.”

  She says, “Where?”

  I say, “My ass.”

  She says, “Like your . . . asshole? Or your ass cheek?”

  I say, “My cheek,” and try to laugh through the pain.

  She says, “Which one?”

  I say, “Left.”

  She starts rubbing it and laughing. I laugh a little, too, as I put my leg straight out in an attempt to stretch the muscle. Eventually the pain subsides and I take a deep breath. She says, “Better now?”

  I say, “Yeah, I think so. Jesus fucking Christ that hurt.”

  She says, “Well, are you okay?”

  I say, “Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”

  She says, “Good, because you’re not finished,” then she climbs back on top of my face and starts grinding her cunt on my mouth while she sucks my dick. I get hard almost instantaneously as I stare at her asshole. She cums easily, but it takes me a few minutes because I can’t stop wondering if she’ll be telling her roommate that the guy she’s fucking is so old he got a cramp in his ass while she was sucking his dick.

  chapter thirty-one

  Gay Wedding

  Carlos picks Holly and me up from the airport. The first words out of his mouth are to Holly. He says, “Holy shit, you are fucking gorgeous. What in the hell are you doing with this asshole? Kidding.” He’s more fired up than usual. I assume this is because he’s getting married and because he’s gay. I assume a straight man would not be this excited in the same situation.

  He gives me a hug and whispers in my ear, “Fuck her every chance you get until it crashes and fucking burns. She’s the hottest piece of ass you’ll ever have in your life.” Then he backs up and says to both of us, “Car’s over here. Let’s go.”

  I give Holly the front seat and get in the back. As I buckle my seatbelt, I say, “We’re at the Marriott in town.”

  Carlos is about to start the car. He turns around and says, “What?”

  I say, “The Marriott.”

  He says, “You stupid piece of shit. You’re in the group that’s staying at Teddy’s aunt’s house. I told you that.”

  I say, “No, you didn’t.”

  He whips out his phone and scrolls through some text messages. He reads, “Hey, Teddy and I want you to stay at his aunt’s house when you come out. You’ll have your own room. Then you respond, ‘Okay. Thanks. Sounds good.’ Real fucking wordsmith.”

  I say, “Oh, sorry, man. A lot going on, as you know. I guess I forgot.”

  He says, “Well, un-fucking-forget. Cancel your room. We’re going to the house.” I cancel the room on my phone.

  The conversation as we drive is mostly between Holly and Carlos. He asks her about herself. Some questions are things I’ve never thought to ask her myself. Her answers to these questions are exactly what I would have predicted.

  When we get to the house Carlos shows us upstairs to our room. He says, “This is you guys. You have a bathroom connected to the room with a shower attached. You’re the first ones here other than me and Tedward, but later when some more people get in we’re all going out to a bar or something. Some shithole he went to when he was in high school. So get your party hats on.” He turns to leave and then turns back. “Oh, and another thing. We’re all adults here so I’ll just be blunt. I know you two are going to fuck. When you do, put a towel down on that vent, because these vents are like a fucking PA system to every bedroom.” He shuts the door behind him as he leaves.

  I start unpacking and Holly goes into the bathroom and comes out with a towel. She tosses at it me. I catch it and say, “What’re you doing?”

  She says, “I’ve never fucked in Massachusetts before.” She starts unbuckling my belt as I put the towel on the vent and try to make sure it’s totally covered. She pulls my pants down and puts my entire dick in her mouth. It takes about three seconds for me to get a hard-on. She says, “I love when your dick gets hard in my mouth,” then she hikes up the skirt she’s wearing and I see that she’s not wearing any underwear. I say, “Were you wearing underwear on the plane?”

  She says, “No and you didn’t do anything about it.”

  I say, “I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

  She says, “You’re a
lways supposed to,” then bends over the edge of the bed so I can see her pussy and her asshole. She licks a finger and reaches between her legs to lube up herself up with her own saliva. She reaches her hand up toward her mouth to lick it again and I say, “You don’t need to do that,” then get down on my knees and lick her pussy from behind while I grab her ass and pull it back into my face. It amazes me that no matter how many times I fuck her or grab her ass or see her ass from an inch away I’m still mesmerized by it. I wonder if, when she’s Alyna’s age, after she’s had a kid or two, it will be covered in cellulite. I can’t imagine that ever being the case.

  Once her pussy is wet, I stand up and head over to my suitcase to get a rubber.

  She says, “What are you doing?”

  I say, “Getting a rubber.” Even though I’ve had by balls clipped, I still haven’t been in to have my sperm count evaluated and I’d fucking hang myself if I was the guy who got a chick pregnant after he had a vasectomy. I also haven’t told Holly about it, and, even though it probably wouldn’t matter at all to her, I’d rather just have her never know.

  She says, “Just fuck me until I cum and then I’ll suck you off.”

  We haven’t had the “do you have any diseases?” conversation, and I’m pretty sure it would kill the mood if I initiated it at this moment, so I decide to roll the dice. At the very least, I’m pretty sure I can’t get her pregnant.

  I move behind her and slide my dick in. It’s the first pussy I’ve had my dick in without a rubber in more than two years. I almost blow my load immediately. I’m reminded of high school. My girlfriend went on the pill shortly after we started fucking and the first time I fucked her doggy-style without a rubber I came in about three strokes. I’ve never done heroin, but I imagine that shooting it straight into your dick might feel something like fucking Holly without a rubber. I slow my pace and try to think about weird shit to make this last a little longer.

  She moans a little too loudly and I say, “Shhh. Be quiet.”

  She says, “Make me.”

  As I fuck her, I reach up and push her face down into the bed. She moans again, but it’s muffled by an old quilt. I wonder if Tedward’s aunt made it, if it’s a family heirloom or some shit. I wonder if anyone else has been fucked in this manner on it, maybe Tedward’s aunt, maybe Tedward.

  She presses back against my hand with her head so she can get her mouth unobstructed enough to say, “Put a finger in my asshole.” Then she collapses back into the bed under the weight of my arm pushing her head down. I move the hand that’s holding her hip toward her asshole, slide a finger along the side of her pussy, which is dripping, to lube it a little, and then push it into her perfect asshole. She cums and as she does, she writhes around with such force that I can’t keep her head down. She screams, “Finger my asshole. I’m cumming! Oh, fuck! You fuck me so good.”

  Then she spins around and puts my dick in her mouth. She alternates sucking it and saying things like, “Cum down my throat,” “I want to taste your cum,” “Fuck my throat,” and “I love how my pussy tastes on your cock.” After a minute or so she reaches up and squeezes my balls as my entire dick is down her throat, and I cum harder than I think I ever have in my life. She swallows it all and then says, “That was fucking hot.”

  From the vent I hear Carlos’s voice say, “Not too bad for straight people.”

  Holly’s eyes get big and she covers her mouth in mock embarrassment. I laugh, take the towel off the vent, and say into it, “Sorry.”

  Through the vent Carlos says, “Put a towel down. I told you.”

  I say, “We did.”

  He says, “Well fuck quieter then.”

  That night we meet the six or seven other people who are staying in the house. Some are Tedward’s cousins, Carlos’s friends, and Tedward’s aunt’s friends. After a nice dinner cooked by Tedward’s aunt, we all go to the bar Carlos mentioned. It’s called Machine, and once we get there I realize it’s a gay bar that’s gayer than anyplace Carlos has ever tricked me into going to in LA.

  I spend most of the night drinking beers and talking about movies with one of Tedward’s straight cousins, a guy named Jim. Holly loves the place. She leaves her drink and her purse with me and Jim while she dances with Carlos and Tedward and other random gay guys in the bar. Every once in a while she’ll come back to the booth to take a sip of her drink and say something like, “This is so much fun. I can’t even believe it.” I track her enjoyment of the night on my phone. She posts an update to Facebook every few minutes detailing the songs that come on the bar and how much fun she’s having dancing with “her gays.” Each post gets at least twenty responses, most of which are from guys.

  As the night winds down, Holly is a drunken, sweaty heap leaning against me near the bar. She says, “When can we go? I want to fuck and sleep.”

  I look around for Tedward, who drove us here. He and Carlos are at the opposite end of the bar talking to some random guy, who I assume is gay based on his refusal to remove Tedward’s hand from his ass. My suspicion is further confirmed when he makes out with Carlos in the car all the way back to Tedward’s aunt’s house.

  Once we get back, Holly and I take a shower and I put down two towels on the vent, knowing that when she’s drunk she’s especially loud when we fuck. We get in bed and she starts jerking me off and saying, “Tonight was so much fun. Thank you for taking me to this. Fuck my ass.”

  Before I can respond I hear the same phrase repeated, but not by Holly. From under the stack of two towels I put over the vent I distinctly hear Carlos’s voice say, “Fuck my ass.” I assume Holly heard it too, since she stops the hand job she’s giving me.

  She says, “Did you hear that?”

  Before I can respond to this, Tedward’s voice comes out of the vent. He says, “Yeah, fuck his ass while you suck my dick.”

  My cock immediately goes flaccid and Holly takes her hand away. She says, “Oh my god. Are we listening to a gay three-way?”

  I say, “Yeah. And two of the participants are getting married tomorrow.”

  She says, “I like gay guys and everything, but is it okay if . . . I mean, I don’t think I can have sex while we’re listening to this.”

  I say, “Totally fine. I’m right there with you.”

  I don’t know if it’s the amount she’s had to drink, or if it’s some deeper psychological freedom she’s allowing herself to enjoy because she’s on some kind of a vacation or at least not in the town she lives in, but instead of rolling to the other side of the bed to sleep without any physical contact from me like she usually does, Holly curls up next to me and falls asleep in my arms. It’s nice. It’s so nice I almost don’t notice Carlos say, “I want to suck the cum out of your asshole,” just before I drift off to sleep.

  The following morning Holly and I wake up, shower, go downstairs and watch a little TV, and talk with some of the other people staying there until it’s time to get dressed for the wedding. I usually don’t notice clothes of any kind, but the dress she’s wearing hugs her body like a fucking glove. She looks like a fucking model walking in front of me and she looks back over her shoulder and smiles. It’s right then that I know I’ll remember this exact moment for the rest of my life. Whatever may or may not happen with us in the future, I know I’ll always have this image of her walking ahead of me with her perfect body outlined by that dress and her beautiful eyes and her smile. I wonder if I have these moments with other girls. I quickly go down the list of girls who were significant in my life and I can think of two other moments.

  One was with Casey, my girlfriend before Alyna. We were sitting on the couch in my old apartment watching TV when a commercial came on for a bank or tax-preparation software or something similar, something to do with money. The commercial featured a bunch of chimpanzees in business suits tearing apart an office, and the tagline asked, “Do you know who’s handling your money?” The question
was rhetorical, but I answered it out loud by saying, “Monkeys?” Casey thought it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. She laughed for a solid two or three minutes and I couldn’t help laughing at her laughing. In a very concrete way, it was probably one of the happiest moments of my life.

  The other was with Alyna. It has nothing to do with our wedding or with our kids being born or any of the crazy shit we went through in the beginning of our relationship. I used to drive anytime we went anywhere, and I used to open the passenger’s-side door for her whenever we got into the car. One weekend, before we were married, we took a trip to Santa Barbara and she drove. When we went out to the car, she opened the passenger’s side door for me. It was just a simple, stupid thing—I think she even did it as a joke—but I know I’ll never forget it.

  I sit down next to Holly and take in the decorations and the people in attendance. I assumed that a gay wedding, especially one involving Carlos, would be crazier—maybe sequins and disco music or something—but that’s not the case. The decorations are all extremely normal; there are no guests in rhinestone jumpsuits or anything. It’s tasteful, which is disappointing.

  The wedding goes off without a hitch. No cell phones go off. Carlos and Tedward both remember their vows and cry at the appropriate times. No crazy guy lovers from the past interrupt the wedding. It’s all very tame. Once they’re pronounced husband and husband, they kiss and everyone stands up and claps. They walk back down the aisle into the house and Tedward’s aunt says, “Please, everyone, stick around for dinner and drinks to be served right here in the backyard.”

  The catering service starts moving chairs and bringing out tables and the DJ sets up a little dance floor and his turntable. All of the guests meander toward the garden area, where there are a few bars set up. Holly and I proceed to get drunk and eat. At one point during the dinner she looks at me and says, “I know I already said this, but seriously, thank you. This is like the coolest thing I’ve ever been to with a guy,” and for the first time since I’ve known Holly I see the possibility of something real with her.