Uncovered

by A. S Peavey

  She tried playing with herself, but her pants were only a few inches down her hips. Her hand soon ached. It would have been enough to get her off if she’d still been incredibly excited, but now she felt the awkward the angle of her wrist.

  And she couldn’t help thinking about how much she’d fucked up. She’d slept around with half a dozen strange men because she though her husband was carrying on an affair. And while he had some explaining to do—why had he let another couple fuck in their house?—Kelsey doubted Omar was fucking anyone besides her. He wasn’t swapping houses and fucking some other woman in another couple’s bed so if anyone was caught, no great harm would come of it.

  Kelsey couldn’t stay. The more she thought, the more depressed her libido got, until she was embarrassed to be in the same room as two people fucking, even after she stopped playing with herself.

  And now she just wanted to lie down, rest, give her mind time to clear. But where? Her bed was out of the question. She would have liked to rest in the living room, her eyes half closed with her music drowning out her thoughts. But the couch could offer no relaxation, not with this couple here—she didn’t want to ever see them again, she didn’t want to risk any conversation.

  She couldn’t kick them out. Even if she could face them, it wasn’t their fault that she’d fucked up.

  Yes, it was her house, and they didn’t have much right to be there, whatever agreement Omar might have made with them. But Kelsey was the one who had to leave.

  “Bad day?” Omar asked. It was the sixth or seventh time he’d tried to get her to open up, to explore her foul mood.

  Kelsey returned home after give the horny couple ample time to finish and leave. Kelsey made another amazing, time-consuming meal. Probably so she could make it up to Omar.

  But the rest of dinner was no gift to him. She tried not to be morose; she couldn’t help it. She wasn’t communicative. She asked about his day, and she nodded, but she couldn’t start a proper conversation.

  Kelsey only wanted to talk about her infidelity, how much of a fool she’d been. But if it was hard to raise the subject before, now it was impossible. She needed a new plan. A really good plan.

  And just thinking about talking horrified Kelsey. Because she wondered what would have happened if she’d raised the subject before? If she had raised the subject of Omar’s non-existent affair? Her ‘confrontation,’ even if she hadn’t meant it to attack him, would have backfired.

  How could she have been so stupid?

  They made love once that night. Kelsey owed Omar that. She owed him more, something passionate, but she couldn’t deliver.

  She still needed to tell Omar. Even more than before, now that she was the only one keeping a secret, or, at least, a secret of any importance.

  After sex, Omar tried again to get her to talk, but Kelsey was mum, and he eventually headed out to the living room to waste time in front of the TV.

  Healing

  “Oh, fuck, that was hot.”

  Kelsey smiled up at her husband, but she wasn’t finished yet just because he had achieved orgasm from fucking her breasts. She turned back to his cock. Gently, knowing that too much attention now could be counterproductive, she kissed around the base, anywhere drops of semen had fallen, licking them up. She moved up his softening cock, kissing and licking up drops of Omar’s semen.

  When she got to the head, his cock twitched, making a valiant effort to get hard again, but inevitably failing. If Kelsey had spent more effort she could have encouraged him.

  But Kelsey’s goal had been to soften him up to talk. It wasn’t to give him a fun round one so he’d give her a good round two fuck—though she hoped that would happen, after the conversation.

  Because Kelsey was finally going to talk to Omar about her growing sexual appetite, how it had been spurred by overhearing what she had thought was her husband’s affair. Except, Kelsey had then learned that her husband wasn’t sleeping around. Instead, Omar had left another couple borrow the house for their affair.

  Having cleaned up her husband—or traded a mess of semen for a lesser mess of saliva—she looked down at herself. She ran one finger over her breast to wipe up more semen, as close as possible to her nipple, exaggerating the motion since his semen hadn’t fallen that close. Once she had enough on her finger, she made a show of licking it off.

  “Unf.” Omar collapsed back, unable to continue watching.

  Kelsey grabbed a towel and wiped off the rest. She hadn’t intended to keep licking up his semen anyway, but there certainly was reason to continue now that he wasn’t at an angle to watch.

  Kelsey crawled up next to him on the bed cuddling him.

  But her job wasn’t over just because she had gotten him off. She couldn’t rest. She had to talk with Omar. She had Omar good and satisfied. The iron was hot. Now was the time to strike.

  She looked at his face to be sure, and the smile on Omar’s face threatening to explode off the sides of his cheeks. Kelsey second plan to begin the conversation was far better put together. She had decided how to get him off, to try to create the best mood for what would be a difficult conversation.

  Kelsey didn’t understand why a titty fuck would be any better than a blowjob. As best she could guess, it wouldn’t feel as good. Kelsey didn’t have as much control over her breasts as her mouth or her hands. She couldn’t control how much contact sensitive regions received, to encourage him. Nor could she selectively avoid those sensitive spots to tease him.

  But she guessed the pleasure was more visual than tactile.

  Still, she’d worried this would fail. When they were first dating this had been one of Omar’s favorite ways to get off. She half believed that it had been a matter of relative inexperience; her ability to suck him off hadn’t been as finely tuned. So it would pale now.

  Though of course, Kelsey had done everything she could to make this the most exciting sexual experience Omar recovered since the first time he got to undress a girl. She’d pulled out all the stops, using all the seductive tricks she’d learned to entice a guy she liked and keep him in her bed. Body language and eye contact both carefully controlled. She’d moaned at selected times—even though. were his brain unaddled by approaching orgasm, he would have known those moans were deliberate affectations, to encourage him.

  It had been work for Kelsey. She’d enjoyed it, but it hadn’t been worth the effort for her, or it only had, because it set up the conversation that desperately needed to happen. She wasn’t planning on doing it again.

  Before Kelsey could speak up—and she still hadn’t waited long—Omar rolled over and started kissing her. She felt his hands moving down her sides, then quickly to her pants, to the button, so he could undress the rest of her.

  Kelsey let out a moan before she got control of herself. The performance she’d given Omar had made her horny—as if she needed any boost. Just getting him off, or teasing him without getting him off, would have been enough to get her horny if she hadn’t already been aroused.

  But Kelsey needed to push Omar off.

  “Not yet.”

  “Okay,” Omar said. Then: “What is it?”

  “It’s…”

  Kelsey looked at her husband, and wondered if he was really ready. Had fucking him with her breasts got him in the right mood? Would any sex get him in the right mood?

  Vickie had told her it would. And after spending a week building up to it, Kelsey had settled on this time, place, and post-coital atmosphere. Kelsey hadn’t even asked for advice on how to tell him. She wanted to know if she should admit her infidelity to Omar.

  But of course she could. She had to. That’s what Vickie said.

  Kelsey knew she had to. Of course she did.

  Her conscience had never been okay with the secrecy, even if she had been able to hide that from herself. But everything stacked higher and higher. The more men she fucked in search for passion, the more she had to hide—not just in sheer numbers, but also how those encounters, and how establis
hing those encounters, pushed her to do more. The revelation that Omar wasn’t having his own affair just forced her to confront her morals.

  Everything kept getting worse.

  Or almost everything. At least her period had come as usual. At least she knew that condom break accident hadn’t ended up with her impregnated by another man. For all that she’d complained to Vickie, and worried herself sick, she was glad that she hadn’t gotten pregnant last month. She would have spent nine months paranoid that the child wasn’t her husbands, until the baby emerged to announce her ethnicity on her skin.

  Unless, of course, Kelsey could somehow convince Omar to contribute blood for a genetic test, without alerting him to why. She had plenty of access to semen, but doubted anyone would accept that for a test.

  At least the scare had convinced Kelsey to set all this in motion so she would, finally, tell her husband.

  Vickie had never berated Kelsey or belittled her. Kelsey desperately wanted to reveal all to her husband. So Vickie offered her suggestions. Vickie told her to get Omar good and sexually exhausted.

  Except that wouldn’t work. Kelsey had created a monster—not that she minded most of the time. He was able, mostly, to keep up with her desire. But it meant the only way to get him sexually exhausted, so he wouldn’t want another round, required her to get him exhausted totally. And she needed him able to hold a conversation.

  “So give him a nice treat,” Vickie had said.

  Kelsey had joked that Vickie could be that nice treat. And she wished that were a serious option. But she needed to have this conversation before getting Omar to fuck another woman. She might have asked Vickie to seduce him, but Vickie would say no. She had her own ethics.

  And what if Omar said no? What if Omar rejected the seduction?

  So Kelsey had to gift him some fabulous sexual act.

  She’d considered other options, other hot ways to let Omar fuck her, or to get him off. Because this was all an act of theater.

  The problem was that most of the wild sexual activities, at least those she was willing to explore, she had done recently. They’d had anal sex. Omar liked that more in principle than in practice, and Kelsey had liked it more than she thought she would, but it still wasn’t the hot nasty sex she’d wanted to open with.

  She considered letting Omar give her a facial. She’d always found that degrading at least in principle. She didn’t know how she would actually feel wearing Omar’s semen. Maybe she would try that, to see her own and Omar’s reaction.

  But not today. Today was not the day to risk doing something that might feel degrading. Today she would level the ground for an important conversation.

  Still, it made her horny, and she filed it away for later.

  “Look, there’s something that I need to talk about.”

  “Talk? We can talk later.” Omar kissed her nipples. She felt wet knowing he was kissing where his cum had been a few minutes ago, even if she had toweled herself off.

  But Kelsey had to suppress her libido.

  “Yes. Talk. Look, there are things that I haven’t told you. About sex. My sex life.”

  Kelsey surprised herself by how easy it was to talk now, even if Omar was still oblivious to the oncoming revelation. This conversation hadn’t been blocked because Kelsey was afraid talking about sex with her husband. She’d done that plenty since this started. She’d lied to herself about that. She had told him about fucking in the dorm shower, and that was only the tip of the iceberg. Other stories had followed—getting Omar hornier and hornier. But there was something about those stories that her hypothetical conversation about infidelity lacked.

  Those stories were about her.

  Kelsey’s problem was that she originally wanted to start this conversation in completely the wrong place. She wanted to make it about Omar, so she could try to excuse herself.

  But Omar would have needed to atone for his errors on his own terms—if he’d had any errors. Kelsey needed to speak about herself.

  “I need to tell you that there are some things I regret doing. Some things I shouldn’t have done the way I did. Certainly not without talking to you.”

  Omar sat up. Concern appeared on his face. But his cock didn’t shrink. Kelsey hoped that meant he had conflicted emotions now that he had some inkling of what Kelsey wanted to reveal.

  “I thought I could justify it though.”

  “Kelsey…” But Omar wasn’t really trying to interrupt.

  “The thing is that the first time…well, I didn’t make it to the appointment with the fertility doctor when I said I did.”

  “Is that…all?” Relief and disappointment were both on Omar’s face.

  “That’s…the beginning.” Kelsey forced herself to meet Omar’s eyes. She hated what she saw. She wished she could stop now before disappointing him further. But of course she couldn’t.

  “The thing is that I came home because I’d forgotten my journal, and I needed to get that before seeing Doctor Boutre. But I got distracted when I got here. Because there were two people fucking in our bed.”

  “Sorry…I’m sorry. I should have told you about Carter and Mira. But it’s…it’s embarrassing. I didn’t really want to think about it myself.”

  “I’m not looking for you to apologize for letting two people fuck here. Any other time maybe but…”

  “It’s just that they wanted a place close by to slip away to. They both have long commutes. Frankly I thought it would only happen once or twice, when they first started dating. And then they’d settle down. I figured after that they’d only be horny when they were on dates, or at home together. But their passion kept on. And with a baby coming, it doesn’t hurt to have some extra money.”

  “I don’t care.” Part of her wanted to know—that’s why she hadn’t interrupted—but Kelsey knew it was unimportant. She could satisfy her curiosity later. But now her curiosity would only derail her conversation. “That’s just—that’s background.”

  But it wasn’t all unimportant. Kelsey had smiled when he talked about the baby—he hadn’t given up on that child—and on them. That was encouraging.

  But Kelsey still had more to tell.

  “What’s important,” Kelsey went on, “what I need to tell you, is that I thought it was you having sex with that other woman. I thought you were having an affair.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Not your fault. And more importantly, the way I reacted, that wasn’t your fault. The thing is, that made me horny. I…I masturbated to those other people. But it also made me want more than I got from my sex life. I slept with other men, Omar. I had my own affair. And I kept doing it.”

  Kelsey didn’t know how much detail Omar should hear. She didn’t want to make him jealous, she didn’t want to glory in the detail. But she also wanted to make sure she raised all her numerous sins. She didn’t want any secrecy weighing on her.

  So she talked briefly about the circumstances of each assignation, listing the men, but not describing them or the sex they had. The hard part was admitting that she had set up times to go out on dates, instead of just using the evenings when she would be alone anyway.

  But Omar didn’t seem to care.

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while,” Kelsey said. “But I didn’t know how to start. So I thought I’d confront you in the act, with the mistress I thought you had. Maybe I’d join you. But, obviously, that wouldn’t work. I realized that you weren’t having an affair.” Kelsey looked up again, her eyes had kept slipping away from Omar. This time he was looking away. “And that’s it.”

  Omar nodded. But no sound escaped his lips.

  The silence dragged on uncomfortably, at least to Kelsey. Clearly Omar was trying to come to terms with the news. But Kelsey couldn’t stand it.

  “Well, what do you have to say?” she asked.

  Omar looked at Kelsey’s face, her hair, her lips, her cheeks, but he couldn’t meet her eyes. His gaze didn’t linger. He looked down, taking in her naked breasts
. Then he reached for her pants, ripping open the button and the zipper, not caring if he damaged them—Kelsey didn’t care either.

  Until now, though they had been physically naked, they had been held separate, as if their nudity clothed them, acting as another barrier between them. Their libidos had died moments into the conversation.

  Omar’s cock hardened again. Slowly. Kelsey felt herself getting wet, but unsure whether she wanted sex yet. She wanted Omar’s response. His words. His forgiveness.

  Or his hate.

  The sex they did have told its own scary story. Sex is always filled with some emotion. Each man Kelsey had fucked reinforced that. But what emotion? She had—before now—felt Omar’s love every time they fucked. Sex with Josh was full of greed and lust—and maybe a hint of disdain. Nostalgia filled her sex with Richard—nostalgia misdirected at Kelsey.

  Some sex brings two people together. But other sex tries to rip them apart, isolating them.

  That’s where this sex started. Omar didn’t kiss her nipples to make her moan—though she moaned. He kissed out of a ravenous desire for those breasts, those nipples. A desire for a human body. If Omar wanted anything from her, it was as a woman possessing the sex appeal to attract half a dozen men in the space of a month and a half.

  Omar’s mouth moved around Kelsey’s body, kissing her quickly, pausing only long enough to take her flesh in. It excited Kelsey just enough to ready herself for his entry, though she could have gladly stopped if Omar wanted to stop.

  Omar kissed her clit, once, then he pulled back. He seemed to consider what he wanted. Not to pleasure Kelsey. His hand reached for her pussy out of habit, to prepare her with his caresses.

  Kelsey grabbed his hand. “Stop.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I want to.”

  “Why?”

  Omar might have ignored the question. But eventually, he said: “Sex was your response to my…to thinking I was having an affair. Why shouldn’t it be how I deal with your affair?”