by Ben Boswell
“Please continue.”
Another hesitation.
WHACK!
“Thir… thirteen.”
“I finally talked him into going to a club. It was loud, cramped. He kept whining that he wanted to go, he barely danced with me. Guys were sending drinks over to me, and he kept giving me the evil eye even though I was just sitting there. Finally, his complaining got to me, and I agreed to leave.
“We got out front and there was this long line for cabs. People were pairing up, sharing rides. He kept saying no, but when the next cab arrived, these two guys behind us didn’t take no for an answer. One guy climbed in the back and pulled me in after him, then his buddy crowded in too.
“The driver was impatient to get going, he waved Danny into the front seat, putting the cab in gear and threatening to roll whether he got in or not. He hopped in as the taxi drove off. He looked back, all angry, even more red-faced than usual.”
“The guys were laughing. ‘What’s the matter, don’t trust us with your girl?’ They were drunk and goofy, not at all threatening, but Danny was playing Mr. Tough Guy, ‘You guys try anything…’ The driver drowned him out by turning up the radio. A sharp turn got Danny’s attention and he reached down and put on his seat belt in a panic. The guys next to me cracked up.”
“And you, sweet little Rachel? Did you defend your man?” Tommy asked.
Hesitation.
WHACK!
“No,” she said softly.
WHACK!
“What?”
WHACK!
“Oh, fuck, fifteen.”
Tommy laughed. “No, fourteen. But keep going.”
“No, I thought it was funny too. They asked me if he was always a baby. I said he was. I thought I was kidding around, but I was so pissed off at him that I wasn’t thinking. He got angry too. Not quite wheeling around he snapped at me, ‘You’re such a whore sometimes Rachel!”
“It set me off even more. The guy on my left cracks, ‘Ooh, good, a whore, how much for a hummer?’”
I could see where the story was going, but it was still shocking to hear it. I could just picture her in a little sun dress, in the back of a swaying, rundown Mexican taxi, wedged in between two frat boy doofuses, all of them sweating from the club.
WHACK!
“Fifteen,” she moaned. “I said, ‘I’ll do it for free.’ I thought it was like a joke or something, but it went all quiet. Then Danny goes, ‘I bet you would, you bitch.’ I swear, I wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t said that.”
Tommy laughed. “You sure about that, Rachel? Really sure?”
“I dunno,” she admitted.
WHACK!
“Owww! Sixteen. I thought we were done with those.”
“You earned fifteen… and Max earned another five for you. So you still have a few to go. Any protests?”
“No… sir,” she replied.
WHACK!
“Seventeen,” she hissed.
“I don’t know if you were trying to mock me just then, but don’t call me sir. I work for a living.”
“Sorry,” she answered in a small voice.
He raised the spoon but stayed his blow as she resumed her story.
“I sucked them off. Both of them. First the one on my left, then the one on my right.”
WHACK!
“Eighteen.”
“Details please.”
“God, I don’t know. It was quick. They were horny young guys. They whipped ‘em out, I took it in my mouth, jerked him with my thumb and index finger, and then took care of the other one.”
“Did they feel you up?”
“No. I did all the work.”
Tommy laughed. “You blew two guys and didn’t even get finger-banged for the effort.”
She chuckled. “Yeah.”
“What else?”
She shook her head. “I don’t…”
WHACK!
“Nineteen,” she sighed.
“Okay, okay, the main thing I remember is Danny in the front seat going, ‘Oh, my God, oh my God,” over and over and the driver laughing like a lunatic. And then, oh yeah, Danny had to pay the fare.”
“I’m guessing things were tense with you two after?” Tommy asked.
“We didn’t talk. I went to the room and got my shit. I had some other friends in town, so I crashed with them in their moldy room.”
“You must have gotten quite the reputation.”
“No. I didn’t tell anyone, and neither did Danny. We just, um, broke up.”
“So I guess, he was right about you after all?”
“What?”
“You were a whore.”
No response.
WHACK!
“Twenty! Yes. Yes, I was a whore.”
“Was? Or are?”
“I don’t know. Both?”
He laughed and waved me over. He gestured toward her ass and I ran my hand over her butt. She was trembling as if from cold, but when I slid my hand down between her legs, I could feel her heat and wetness. I slipped a finger inside her. She was soaked. Was it from being exposed? From remembering the story? From telling it? Did she get off on being beaten?
I cupped her ass with my other hand, feeling the spot that he’d struck. It was swollen and hot to the touch. As I gave the spot a little pressure, she flinched and her pussy clenched around my finger. I couldn’t help myself, I gave another quick push on the spot and got another firm squeeze on my digit.
“Fun, isn’t it?” Tommy interrupted.
I nodded, unable to take my eyes off my heaving, exposed wife.
“But now, I need to some relief of my own,” Tommy said. “This isn’t just exciting for the two of you.”
He reached down and took Rachel’s hand and stood her up. She was red faced and trembling, strands of hair matted to her forehead with sweat. She already looked well-fucked
“You’re welcome to watch if you’d like,” he said to me. “But give us a few minutes to get started.”
I looked for a tell. Was I supposed to tell him off? Was that the game? Getting me to assert myself. I couldn’t be sure. Somehow that didn’t feel right. I thought back to that old movie I’d seen in Germany. The game there seemed to be to hand the woman off to another man, that if she was willing to accept being given to another man, she was actually surrendering herself even more completely.
I wished Tommy had filled me in, but I also thought back to his statement that there were no rules, no simple answers, that it was about being able to read the situation.
I stepped back. “Have fun.”
Rachel’s eyes went wide and Tommy nodded. Had I made the right choice? I didn’t know. All I knew was that Tommy, this stranger I’d met on the Internet, was right now taking my wife upstairs to our bedroom.
He’d asked for a couple of minutes. Was that two? More? Was it just a nice way to tell me to butt out? I chuckled to myself. I kept complaining about lack of guidance and then when he gave some, I couldn’t figure out whether to follow it.
And then I thought about Rachel. It was embarrassing to realize how little I’d really thought about her, and her feelings, this whole evening. Was she angry at me about inviting in Tommy? Was she just going upstairs to spite me as she had Danny Danny Green? No. She had the safe word too. She was a willing participant. And I realized, perhaps more clearly than she did, that she’d been a willing participant in the cab. She wasn’t angry at Danny Danny. She was probably grateful he’d given her the excuse to cut loose. If those guys had bothered to finger her, they’d have found her as wet as I just had. And so we were back to square one. Being treated like a whore got Rachel hot and bothered, but I still didn’t know how to do it. I didn’t have Tommy’s instincts. If it were up to me, I’d still be hesitating over the whack, debating whether it should be hard or soft, whether her shuddering meant it had been too much or too little.
I glanced at the stairs. It had been at least two minutes. I decided to check it out. I climbed to the landing. Th
e bedroom door was open, the lights on, Rachel was grunting and groaning, Tommy muttering encouragement.
I wasn’t shocked by what I saw, it was what I expected, but I was surprised by how erotic I found it. He was lying back on the bed, and she was riding him, reverse cowgirl. She was on her knees, her perfect ass rising and falling rhythmically on his fat prick. He was massaging her ass gently, his thumb resting on her pale welt, pressing on it periodically in a way that made her shudder and drop down on him raggedly.
He had his phone out, periodically documenting the encounter.
She was obviously very, very excited. His cock glistened with her wetness, each thrust squishing wetly. She was also louder than usual, moaning and gasping in a way made it seem as if she were just transitioning from one orgasm to the next.
Tommy noticed me standing in the doorway. Without acknowledging me directly, he began thrusting upward into my wife, who reacted with undisguised pleasure.
“Oh God,” she sighed. “Oh God.”
“Give me a show,” he ordered. “Spread your ass.”
She hesitated and he gave her a quick spank on her sore spot. She whined, but obeyed him, reaching back with both hands, pulling her cheeks apart giving a perfect view of his cock churning into her hot, wet box, her tiny asshole puckering with each thrust.
“That’s it Rachel, now finger your ass.”
Another hesitation, another spank.
“Owwww!” she whined.
Spank!
“Okay, okay,” she moaned, now releasing one hard little cheek and bringing her finger to her mouth.
“Do it,” he hissed.
She obeyed, sliding her manicured finger down her crack, tickling her anus. With a gasp she pushed it in, throwing her head back as she did, settling down onto his prick.
Spank!
“Don’t stop moving.”
She nodded and resuming riding him, now more erratically, less controlled.
“That’s it doll, here it comes,”
He grabbed her hips and thrust upward powerfully. She gasped and whined and when she felt him come inside her, she sighed with satisfaction. He thrust a few more times as she relaxed, first slowing her movements, then falling forward face-down onto the bed. As his cock popped out I was treated to the sight of my wife’s pussy, red, and swollen, gaping open until it closed with a series of pulses.
The moment they finished I began to feel like an intruder on the scene. I ducked away, slipping back downstairs, unsure what to do next. Was I supposed to join them? Take my turn with her? None of this made sense. But there was one thing I had to admit. Rachel had well and truly enjoyed herself.
-----
Tommy joined me downstairs a few minutes later.
“You okay bud?”
“I guess. I don’t know. What was I supposed to do?”
“What do you think you were supposed to do?”
I shook my head. “Fuck Tommy, I don’t know.”
He laughed. “Relax. You did great.”
“So what happens now? You keep coming by and fucking my wife?”
“There are worse scenarios.”
I nodded. He was right. If she did have a periodic craving for some rough trade, maybe this was the best option, at least this was in my control. Sort of.
He rolled his eyes.
“Yes, Max, I will probably have sex with your wife again. No, this isn’t a new lifestyle. Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I replied, though I was feeling much less certain than my words. “I wish I just understood the plan better.”
“You will,” he replied. “You will.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
After Tommy left, I climbed the stairs with trepidation. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I considered a whole range of potential responses from Rachel. Would she be angry that I put her into this situation? Ashamed at her conduct? Grateful that I’d let her get properly fucked? Horny and wanting more? Contemptuous that I had let another man into our house and our bedroom?
Not only did I not know how she would respond, I didn’t know how I wanted her to respond. In the time I walked up the stairs, my opinions changed. Would it be good if she’d enjoyed her time with Tommy? Or bad? Was this supposed to be aversion therapy or desensitization? And why was Tommy keeping me in the dark?
The unpleasant thought returned. I was just a sucker. Tommy was just an Internet huckster, an online predatory. I’d walked into his trap, given him everything he could have dreamed of. He even had pictures of Rachel naked and now sucking his cock, fucking him. He knew our address, our names. I sat down on the top step, my heart pounding a mile a minute. Her affair had thrown me so far off balance that I lost all common sense, all perspective. And now this man owned us. He could blackmail us into anything. Anything.
We’d need to move, change our names. Or maybe not. Maybe all he wanted was what he was already getting, a pliant and submissive Rachel to use for his amusement. Could I live with that? Did my opinion even matter?
She’d loved it. There was no denying it. Feeling her wetness after her beating, seeing her ride him so sensuously. Whatever Tommy was or wasn’t, he had a way with women, or at least my wife. She’d probably welcome being blackmailed, forced to engage in ever more tawdry and debased acts, excusing herself and blaming me all the while. Maybe she’d even set it up. Had she know Tommy from before? Was he one of her regular fucks?
No, I was losing it. Who wouldn’t though? Just because my mental anguish was understandable, it didn’t make my paranoid fears real. And yet.
“Are you okay?”
Rachel was standing above me, freshly showered and wrapped in her heavy, spa bathrobe. I laughed. It made her look like a yeti, but she loved the damn thing, so soft and warm. It had taken me forever to find it. I finally broke down and ordered it from the resort spa where we’d first seen it. $250 for a bathrobe.
“Are you okay?” she repeated, a little more concern in her voice.
Damn, that was one thing that had to end. As painful as it was to watch her blow Tommy and to watch Tommy fuck her, I think the most annoying thing was how solicitous they both were of me.
“Are you?” I asked
She was a little taken aback. She seemed to have taken it for granted that she was all right, that I was the one who needed reassurance.
“Yeah?” she replied uncertainly. I think I’m all right, should I not be?
I laughed. She stared at me like I was crazy.
“A man came into our house. He ordered you to perform oral sex. He beat you with a wooden spoon while commanding you to share your deep, dark secrets. Then he screwed you in our marital bed while ordering you to finger your own ass. You can see why I might ask if you’re okay, right?”
She sat down beside me.
“A man came into our house. He ordered your wife to perform oral sex. He beat her with a wooden spoon while forcing her to divulge deep, dark, embarrassing secrets. Then he took her upstairs and had sex with her in your bed. You can see why I might ask if you’re okay, right?”
I laughed. “I’m okay. I don’t understand any of it, but I’m okay.”
She nodded. “Same here.”
“What do you see in him?”
“What do you?” she replied.
“I think I may see something different than you do. But, okay, I’ll go first. I like him. He’s open, honest, direct, insightful. He makes me feel like I’m not alone in dealing with… whatever we’re dealing with. You?”
She hesitated.
“Come on, Rach, this is one of those things we need to communicate about.”
She nodded. “He scares me –“
Seeing the look of alarm on my face, she quickly continued, “but in a good way. He scares me because he seems to know me, even beyond what you may have told him. He sees through me, through the construct of Rachel, nice Jewish girl and mother, overeducated, underemployed quant. He sees me for the real me.”
The real Rachel. A slut for inappropriate men.
A whore who gets wet when ordered to blow a near stranger. A tramp who gets off on getting punished and spreading her ass cheeks so her man can watch his cock plowing into her wet hole.
“Do you really feel that way? That’s the real you?”
She nodded. “You know it is. I’m sorry. But I’m a fraud.”
Except, she wasn’t. She was a nice Jewish girl, even if she hadn’t seen the inside of a synagogue in twenty years. She was a wonderful, sometimes even over-attentive mother. She was talented enough to get into HBS, and smart enough to explain Black-Scholes to me.
“I could beat you with a spoon,” I said.
But we both laughed. That was the problem. Still the same fucking problem. I knew what she wanted, what she needed, but we’d both done such a good job compartmentalizing things that we couldn’t do it together.
I took her by the hand. “Come to bed, honey. We have the house to ourselves.”
“I need to change the sheets,” she said.
“No, we’re going to make love in your wet spot.”
She scrunched up her nose, but didn’t object as I led her to bed. And happily, there was no wet spot. The line had been pure bravado on my part.
We climbed into bed naked and lay side-by-side. We kissed, gently at first.
“Why don’t you hate me?” she asked.
“Because I love you. I love you when you’re happy and when you’re angry.”
We kissed again, more firmly. I let my hands roam over her lithe body, trailing my fingertips down between her breasts and over her belly. She ran her hands through my hair.
“I love you when you’re relaxed and when you’re stressed.”
I reached down and cupped her ass, circling the swollen mound where he’d beat her. She shivered in anticipation, but I didn’t press down.
“I love you when you’re sane and when you’re crazy. I seem to remember some vows to that effect.”
“Forsaking all others,” she breathed as we kissed wetly.
“I told you we needed to have our lawyers review the language. Should have had a precedence clause in the vows.”
She giggled.
I pulled her close. Her hand went between us to stroke my erection. My fingers edged between her legs from behind, feeling her heat and wetness. My digits sank into her easily. She gasped and threw her leg over me.