Domesticated

by Jettie Woodruff

  Keeping my distance, I followed unnoticed, looking at other people and the little shops along the way. He grabbed her ass a couple times, and they stopped to make-out a time or two. I shouldn’t have gone so far. I was already a quarter mile from my house, and by the time the mushy, lovey-dovey couple made it to their row cabins, I was at least another quarter mile away.

  I stayed back when they entered their little beach hut, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. The lights stayed off and I could only imagine what was going on in the dark. And then a light was switched on in the back of the cabin. The curtains were drawn, leaving only a small slit of light. I should go.

  Of course, my compulsion wouldn’t let me do that. My pussy wouldn’t let me do that. It was throbbing like mad. My first impulse should have been to get the hell out of there. Something was seriously wrong with me. My desire won over the impulse and instead of doing what the normal person would do, I did the madness thing to do. I touched myself, applying a little pressure to the seam in my shorts. There was no denying my wet shorts. I felt it through the thick material.

  I walked inconspicuously closer to the small break in the curtains, hoping it was a bedroom and to my delightful surprise, there they were. My heart sped to the same beat as my pulsating pussy when I saw her on her knees. The guy had his hands over his head with a look of pure pleasure. He was bigger than Garrison—a lot bigger. She was a trooper, though, taking all of him to the back of her throat.

  I looked around in the dark night, wanting to avoid being caught. Peeping Tom wasn’t a charge I could explain to Garrison. He would never understand my addiction. The night air filled my lungs with my deep breath when I turned my attention back to the blowjob going on right in front of me. This was so much better than my tablet. The man moved when I looked back. Pressing my eye closer to the window and closing the other for a better view, I watched. He was now holding her head, shoving his cock in and out, fucking her mouth. I moaned, imaging it was my mouth being violated.

  He pulled her to her feet next and moved her naked body to the bed, spreading her wide while he finger fucked her—hard. I could faintly hear her moans through the thick glass, but the expression on her lustful face and the way her body shuddered below him forced me to move my fingers through the top of my shorts. I didn’t have panties on because I had omitted them after my shower. I did that sometimes. I liked the thought of my pussy unconcealed. Aahh. I was so fucking wet and my pussy was extremely grateful for the feel of my fingers.

  Sliding the wetness to my overzealous nub, I flattened my other hand against the wood siding. I needed balance while I watched the man turn and straddle her, backward. He lifted her legs and slapped her pussy over and over until she was calling out with the same orgasm I was sporting. Folding under my self-stimulation, I moaned, imagining the slaps to my pussy.

  “Hey, who’s over there?”

  Fuck. Like a real life peeping Tom, I ran, darting between the neighboring house and up another, back the way I came. I looked behind me several times until I was once again around people. My heart fluttered with adrenaline at the thought of being caught. Jesus, I was never doing that again.

  I looked down at my unbuttoned shorts when a man asked me if I needed some help. My light curly hair just barely peeking out. The zipper quickly came up and I buttoned it right away. I did watch Garrison’s brother have sex once, but Carter did it the same way Garrison did. I watched, rewinding the security camera. Lisa did come beneath him though, either that or she was very good at faking it.

  Watching Carter didn’t turn me on like this had. I didn’t even get to see his cock. Just like Garrison, he waited until he was under the covers to remove his shorts and her nighty was lifted below her hips, but no breasts were exposed. I can count on one hand how many times Garrison touched my boobs. Breasts weren’t for pleasure, they were for nourishment for our baby that I would never have.

  That’s what he told me when I requested it the couple times. I think it was like the third time. I was drunk on a lot of wine and didn’t ask. I just lifted my nightgown and touched my nipples myself.

  “Stop doing that. You’re ruining the moment,” Garrison said as he slid into me.

  “Then you do it. Suck on them, Garrison.”

  He stopped. “We’re not doing this like this. You’re making it dirty. It’s not supposed to be dirty. Just lay there, will you?”

  Adriana used to tell me that sex was dirty, too. If it was so dirty, why did I have such a fascination with it? I often wondered if my parents divorced because of that. On one of the few occasions that I did get to stay with my mother, I watched her have sex, sort of. I couldn’t really see anything. She was on the sofa, sitting on the guys lap, sliding up and down his shaft. I was sure Adriana and my father never had sex that way.

  I sort of cheated the next morning. I called Olivia for help. Although I called the marina all by myself, I wasn’t sure of what questions to ask. I wanted to stay out the entire day, but wasn’t sure how it worked. Did I have to bring my own food? Did the marina take care of that for me? What if the driver was a bad captain? What if he was a felon or something? Olivia assured me that she would take care of it all. She would make sure I had lunch and supper provided and the only thing I needed to do was show up at one. I thanked her, telling her I would transfer payment to her account. She didn’t want to be paid, she only wanted to come back and work for me when I returned. I promised her I would let her return, and wished I would have let her come with me.

  I was proud of myself for not waking up horny, or bringing myself to bliss. Those days were few and far between. I have no excuses to why I am the way I am. I’m sure it was some sort of illness. Blame it on the Paraphilias Disorder I was never diagnosed with. I don’t know, but something made me this way. Something wasn’t right in my brain. I knew this with every part of my awareness. The only problem with accepting that I did have a problem was not being able to tell anyone. I had absolutely no one to talk to about it.

  My husband would deem me crazy, my mother didn’t really talk to me, and I had no real friends. I remember accidently letting the word cunt slip once around the snobby class back home. Noble Ms. Angelica softly told me that reputable ladies like us didn’t use the C word. I bet the stuck-up bitch had never said the C word, the P word, or the F word.

  I had microwavable oatmeal on my deck, searching the sea for our yacht that should be pulling to our little space on the waterfront any time now. I ignored the thoughts telling me I hadn’t come yet, and ignored the sensations between my legs begging for it. Trying to rid the visions of the girl from the night before from my mind, I finished my breakfast and picked up the broom in the corner. I could sweep the sand from the wood planks. That should get my mind off it.

  It worked. I swept the sand to the edge, watching it rain to the ground. It wasn’t until the broom landed between my legs that the impulse wasn’t going away. I bent to pick up a piece of paper, not wanting to litter the beach. The handle of the broom rubbed my clit just the right way. After resting the end of it on the banister, I walked up to it, looking out to the people on the beach. The neighbors on my right were cooking something on their grill and I walked another step. Hmmm. Right there.

  I rocked unobtrusively on the yellow handle. This extra stimulus seemed to do the trick and the predictable happened. I nodded to the neighbor and grasped the wood rail with both hands, all while trying not to change my expression. I pretended to pull my hair from the back of my neck while the orgasm enveloped me and I took it. Ripple after ripple.

  I wasn’t going to take my phone out on the boat with me, knowing from experience, I would lose any form of cell service fairly quickly. Plus, I had my tablet if I wanted to read or watch a movie. The only reason I did bring it was because of the ringing just as I closed the glass door.

  “Hey,” I answered Garrison’s call.

  “Hi, what are you doing? I tried to call you last night. I told you I didn’t want you out alone. I’m go
ing to send Olivia there.”

  “Garrison, I didn’t go out. I wasn’t feeling well. I was asleep by nine. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you called.” I didn’t. I wasn’t even sure why I had this expensive cell phone to begin with. He was the only one that called, unless Angelica called, wanting me to give my time for some charity event or something.

  “Oh, well. I still think this was a bad idea, you going there alone and all.”

  “I’m fine, Garrison. I was just heading out to spend the day on the yacht.” It took almost a month for me to talk my husband into letting me come alone. I wanted to feel it, as dumb as that sounds. I was almost thirty and had never lived alone, never been independent, never an autonomous. I wanted that. I longed for it, and I thought maybe the three months at the beach alone would help with that aspiration in my life. If I’m being honest, it didn’t. I sort of missed Olivia, or ordering her around anyway.

  “I’ll do my best to make it out there Friday. I can do some work there.”

  “Okay,” I answered. I didn’t really want him there. I would rather have had Olivia than Garrison. I certainly wouldn’t disclose that to him. What if I did? What if I told him he did nothing for me, that I never loved him and I didn’t want to be with him? What if I told him I wanted out, a divorce? Yeah, what if I wanted a divorce?

  “Kendra?!”

  “Huh?” Shit. How long was he saying my name?

  “Huh? Did you really just say that?”

  “Sorry, I dropped my phone.”

  “That’s it. I’m sending Olivia. I knew not to let you go there alone. Your mother tried to tell me it was a bad idea. I should have listened.”

  “I dropped my phone, Garrison.” He didn’t know it was a lie. Jesus. He made it sound like I just committed a crime. A small snort escaped my lips, thinking about the peeping Tom crime I did commit.

  “I’ll be out there as soon as I can. You sure you’re okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? What is it that you’re afraid of?”

  “I just want you to stay safe, that’s all. You’ve never taken care of yourself. I would feel better if you weren’t alone.”

  “I’m fine, Garrison. I have to go. I have a boatman coming. The yacht is there now. I’m staying out all day, so I won’t be able to answer if you call.”

  “Are you taking food? What will you eat?”

  “Yes, Garrison. I have it all taken care of. I’m not inept.”

  The exhalation didn’t go unnoticed. I knew the snort was a silent disagreement to me being incompetent. Fuck him. Fuck my mother who never even called me, and fuck their conniving conversations behind my back about how incapable I was. “I’ll try to reach you later, or tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow would be better,” I snidely replied and ended the call. Dropping my rather large phone in my bag with my tablet, I stormed out. The nerve of him. The nerve of my mother. Who the fuck did she think she was telling my husband I shouldn’t be alone? I could hear the conversation in my head. Her talking about how I was too unstable to come here by myself. I hated her almost as much as I hated Adriana.

  The conversation I had walked into the winter before our wedding played in my head. It was Christmas and we were at her penthouse in New York City. I left them alone to shower, but turned back when I couldn’t find my overnight bag. I stopped when I heard my mother tell Garrison to sit down.

  Standing just outside the door of her office, I peeked around the corner. My mother stood with her long, beautiful hair hanging down her back. Her white chiffon business suit hugged her curves. She truly was breathtaking. It was no wonder Adriana was so envious of her. She had every right to be. She stood silent for a minute, swirling the ice around in her cordial glass, twirling the gold alcoholic drink.

  “Garrison, I want you to know what you’re getting yourself into with my daughter. Kendra has always been—how should I say this? I guess she’s always been a little laborious. I’m not sure you realize what a handful she can be at times.”

  “What do you mean?” Garrison asked, joining her at the window that overlooked the lighted skyscraper city.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is, Kendra tends to need guidance. She doesn’t really deal with things on her own. She needs someone to hold her hand. I can’t tell you how many conversations I had with her stepmother over her behavior.”

  “Has she ever been to therapy?”

  “Yes, for years. Adriana took her twice a week. Her psychiatrist said she misbehaved and acted out in pursuit of attention. She went from being the only child with two parents to being the oldest of three with a stepmom. She acted out in spite of the attention that was taken from her to be divided between two sisters and a new wife. I have to give Adriana credit. I’m glad she was there for her. I was extremely busy in my career in those earlier years. I honestly don’t know that I could have handled some of the things she did as a child.”

  “She never told me anything like that,” my concerned future husband expressed.

  “Of course, she didn’t. I’m not trying to discourage you from marrying her. I’m just trying to make you are aware of things you might have to take care of with her. I mean, I think she’s fairly steady now. She seems to be holding her own while away at school. You just might have to hold her hand a lot, Garrison. Are you up for that?”

  “I plan on having an assistant for her. I think we work well together. We’re going to live in Hartford, in my parents’ house. They’re relocating to Houston. We’ll be fine. I can control her.”

  That was Garrison’s plea for me. Not once did he say he loved me. Not once did he say he needed me, wanted to be with me, cared about me. He could control me. That’s what he said. I presume I was lucky I had him. He still wanted me. Even after the lies my mother told him, Garrison still wanted to marry me. Of course, she didn’t know they were lies, but she should have never listened to one thing Adriana said. Nothing that came out of her mouth was the truth.

  I stopped trying to convince anyone to believe me after my little bottom reminded me of how mad that made Adriana. I never mentioned anything to my mother again in fear of her talking to Adriana about it. I would pay the price for that. I wasn’t chancing it anymore. Suffering in silence became the best policy for me and my butt.

  “Ahoy, Matey!”

  Oh for fuck’s sake. You have got to be kidding me. Who the hell was this clown with his arms flaring about like he was about to fly or some shit? Although the surround sound burst with satisfying music, I didn’t want the whole beach, hearing. Something about pouring sugar on me came from my boat. What the hell was he listening to? I jerked my arm away when he tried to help me up the little boarding bridge.

  “I’m Sam. You must be Kendra?” he questioned with a ridiculously stupid smile.

  “Mrs. Ashby,” I corrected. “Turn that off,” I demanded, walking right past him and right to the bow where I stood behind the glass wall. I could feel his stare boring into the back of my head. I didn’t care. Did this guy really think we were going to be friends? Flipping my hair, I glanced back, ordering to get a move on with my eyes, my raised eyebrows, and the nod of my head. I even added the circling of my hand for a little animation, just in case he didn’t get the look.

  “Right…here we go,” he cheerfully sang.

  Oh brother. I could have said something equally lame back to him, but chose not to. What was the point? He would still be equally dumb.

  The sun felt warm on my eyelids when I closed them, soaking in the oceanic atmosphere. There wasn’t a more peaceful sanctuary on earth than the ocean. The breeze picked up, brushing past my skin as our speed accelerated, fanning my hair behind me. I forgot how much I loved this boat and being out in the middle of the mammoth waters. Nothing could have made it more impeccable. Hmmm. Except maybe a glass of wine.

  I removed my over shirt and walked to the back of the yacht to the bar. The bar was beautifully lit at night with four fixed stools correspondingly illuminated. I looked forward to sitting out here onc
e the moon was the only thing lighting our way.

  I sat on the white leather stool with a delicious, ice-cold glass of wine. This is why I kept Olivia around. She knew what I liked and how to take care of me. Nobody else would have made sure I had Challis-North white wine. I sort of loved that girl. That wouldn’t be disclosed to her. She was beneath me. We were far from friends.

  After a couple glasses of my favorite wine, I made my way up to the upper deck. Garrison made sure the yacht had the sunbathing deck. We wouldn’t want anyone seeing me in a bikini. That wouldn’t be very conservative.

  We once came here with Garrison’s parents. His mother wore the most ridiculous swim suit I had ever seen. It reminded me of something from one of those silly Norman Rockwell calendars of women back in the day. Mine was just as puerile. Garrison picked it out. I couldn’t be showing that much skin around other people. God forbid.

  This bikini was hidden from my husband. He wouldn’t be seeing me in this one. It barely covered my nipples and the dainty strings holding the bottoms in place would have been tossed out with the Thursday morning garbage disposal. It wouldn’t have been the first time. I had things disappear more than once. Rarely did Garrison call me out on anything I purchased. He would just wait until I wasn’t around to get rid of them. Perish the thought of us having a confrontation. We couldn’t be having anything like that.

  Gulping the last of my wine, I reclined myself in my lounge, not too much, though. I wanted to be able to see the waters, and enjoy the view. I loved the way my new bikini looked on me from this angle. My breasts were firm and full with exposed deep cleavage. The white trim stopped just above my hairline. Looking behind me to make sure I was alone, I lifted the elastic a little. I loved the way my pussy looked beneath the white. I liked it so much, I took a few selfie shots with my phone.