by Jason Lenov
I took a deep breath. They say breathing helps.
"I...what were you two doing?" I spit out before I could stop myself.
A raised eyebrow, a puzzled frown then the glimmer of understanding in her eyes at what I was asking, exactly.
"John, are you...are you jealous?" she whispered.
The way she said it forged my jealous rage into a rigid lust that made me stiffen and want to take her there on the table. There was nothing accusatory about her tone, nothing that indicated her disdain for what I felt. Quite the opposite. It almost seemed to thrill her, that I might be jealous of another man.
"I..." I began, searching her eyes for what she was trying to say. I couldn't say "no" because she knew it. She knew already that that's what was burning inside me. That my stare when they walked through the door had been driven by jealousy. But did she know that I felt something else?
"You, what?" she said, still leaning over me, her generous cleavage daring me to look down at the cleft between her breasts instead of at her eyes. There was mischief in them now. Had she been a naughty girl?
Did she know how hard I was? Could she sense it? Could she smell it? "So yeah, what were you guys doing?"
She straightened and folded her arms across her chest. The smile curled up one side of her mouth in a devilish kind of way. "I was out back showing him the garden and the view."
I breathed deeply again, trying to calm my pulse and my confused excitement. "Oh..." It was a dejected, sad sound, as heavy with disappointment as it was with relief.
"Would you rather I not do that anymore? With the guests, I mean?"
My mind began to race again. Why didn't I just ask her? Why didn't I just tell her what I felt? Because how do you do that? How do you just say that to someone who you know so well, that you want something and don't want it at the same time?
"No!" I managed a guffaw this time. "Of course you can do it. I was just wondering." I erupted into smiles, trying to lighten the mood even though my blood still boiled inside.
"Okay..."
She seemed confused now.
"What's for dinner tonight?" Andre's deep voice boomed from the stairwell right before I saw him walk in, rubbing his hands together in glee.
"Beef Wellington," Rebecca replied, still looking at me. "But I have to take a shower before I do that. I'm filthy."
My cock flexed again.
Chapter 11
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling and listening to the wind which had picked up again outside. Waves crashed against the cliffs in the darkness and made it seem like trouble was brewing, with the weather, anyways.
Through dinner I'd barely said anything, letting her and Andre talk and laugh. I'd tried not to stare, but most of the time couldn't help myself. His hands. I kept looking at those big, black hands of his and thinking of them pressed against her skin. It had made me rock hard, lusting after her like I hadn't in a long time.
When she walked out of the bathroom, my heart jumped into my throat at the sight of her in nothing but a pair of red underwear.
Don't get me wrong. This was what I'd always wanted. I'd always wanted my wife to walk out of the bathroom in nothing but her underwear and make it clear that we were having sex. But why the hell was she doing it now?
"What are you doing?" I asked as she crawled seductively between the sheets.
She laughed and rolled her eyes, as if it was something that happened all the time. "I'm trying to have sex you with you, John Forrest," she purred, nibbling at my ear lobe, her hand already snaking towards my crotch.
Maybe I should have just enjoyed it for what it was. Maybe I shouldn't have worried or cared about the sudden change. The sudden change, though, seemed to be what was turning me on so much. It was impossible to ignore. I turned to look at her, pulling away so I could see her eyes. She seemed unperturbed by my hesitation.
"What's the matter, John Forrest? Don't you want to have sex with your wife?" Her hand found my rigid member and her eyes lit up in approval.
"Of course I want to have sex with you," I said, grunting as she squeezed me and trying to pull away. She held fast. "Rebecca, what is this?" I asked, putting myself dangerously close to a night of celibacy. Her sultry expression didn't waver.
"I saw you watching me tonight," she whispered, a vein of dangerous excitement in her tone.
I couldn't help my body's reaction and I flexed, becoming even harder in her hand. It made her eyes widen and her mouth drop open, just so slightly.
Then suddenly she was pushing past the elastic of my underwear, her hot fingers wrapping around the stiff flesh of my cock and causing me to groan as she began to stroke. She pushed the fabric down with her other hand, pushing the covers off and freeing my cock so it could stand. As the covers flew off her body too, I saw how taut her nipples were already. When I looked back up, there was a hunger in her eyes.
She didn't wait for me to roll onto her, or take the lead or take command. She was up on her knees, swinging one leg over my body and revealing the damp spot that had darkened the red fabric of her underwear.
I lay there in a shocked silence, pangs of pleasure pulsing from my cock as I watched the woman that I thought I'd known so well pushing her panties to one side. I looked down there too and flexed again as I saw the slickness of her pussy. When she pressed the head of my cock to her tight slit, the trickle of warmth that ran down it made me shiver. That made her look up and smile.
"Look how wet my pussy is John," she said, biting her lip. She had one knee up in the air, so that I could see almost the whole length of her slit as she stroked it with my cock. Each pass of her moist flesh along my hardness made me stiffen even more and worry that I wouldn't last if she kept it up. Finally, in a benevolent act of mercy, she stopped her teasing and pressed my cock between her welcoming lips, then sank onto me slowly, letting me fill her hole.
"Oh fuck..." I groaned as the feeling of her cunt tightening around my shaft doused me in heat. When I opened my eyes to look at her again, she'd thrown her head back. She was someone else now. Some primal, grunting creature that was digging for the pleasure in her fuck.
She put her hands on my hips as mine slid along her perfect curves and settled on her breasts. She moaned as her body began to undulate on mine, her hips grinding against me faster, my cock thrust up inside her as deeply as it would go.
"Fuck Becka..." I breathed as the surges of my own pleasure came quicker and a climax threatened to unleash my seed. But instead of slowing, instead of getting off me so that we could stretch out our enjoyment, she started fucking faster, like an animal in heat.
Her eyes were glinting now as if she sensed my closeness. Her stare drove into me, an urging, hungry thing that seemed to beg me for my seed. I pinched her small buds between my fingers, thinking a shot of pain would slow her down. It only made her clench her jaw and seemed to drive her even wilder. She bent low over me, letting me take a nipple in my mouth as she squeezed me with her cunt.
I could feel the mess of her sloppy wetness as it dribbled down my shaft. There was no stopping now, I'd reached the point of no return. She seemed to sense it and pulled her chest up off of mine so I could be as deep inside her as I could be. My cock throbbed once and then again. I felt the cum pulsing through it, hot and ready to explode. At the first blast of my seed, my hands dropped to her hips and my ass arched up as my body rammed itself deep inside her womb.
Streak after streak of my own hot seed pulsed into her as she rode me to her own happiness. Just as I felt my climax wane, I felt her body shake on top of mine, felt her cunt clench me and felt her slow as she tried to draw up any of what I had left into her. When the peak of her pleasure passed, her middle started back into a rhythm, her tits bouncing pleasantly as she rode out the rest of the wave, then finally collapsed on top of me in a heap.
We lay there for a while, in the hot sticky silence of the room as the weather gathered outside for another summer storm.
I thought for a long time about wha
t to say, how to bring it up and which words would best express how I felt and least betray my fear at how I did.
"So you like being watched, huh?" I whispered finally, having summoned the courage from her wild fuck.
She answered with a gentle snore.
Chapter 12
Andre left the next day, but said he would definitely be back. He said he loved it here more than anywhere else he had gone to get away. He said that he would call and make sure we had no other reservations before he came back, so that we could have just as nice a time. That made me shudder. How nice had it really been? For him?
I shook his hand and smiled a cautious smile and Rebecca had waved to him as we watched Sam take him on the boat.
"Well, we did it," I had said once they were out of view. "Our first guest was a success, I think. Don't you?"
She rolled her eyes and laughed a little and patted me on the arm and said "Oh John," and it drove me mad.
Oh John? Oh John, what? Oh John, I loved fucking that big black man? I shook the thought from my head as we headed up the stairs towards the house. There were a few days between now and the arrival of our next guests. Plenty of time to figure all this out.
After a few glasses of wine with dinner, she didn't seem to be as ready for affection as she'd been the night before.
"Oh John, I'm feeling sort of sleepy tonight, can we take a rain check?" she asked, as I rolled towards her with intent. My heart sank but my head knew it was better to let it go now. Try again another day rather than risk a fight and several days of silence and regret. My body craved her though and it was hard to ignore that. I didn't just want to be inside her. I wanted to be inside her head.
Was it a coincidence that suddenly when our guest had left her interest in me waned? It was surely just a coincidence. Once the sounds of her delicate breathing made it clear she was asleep, I tiptoed to the office and indulged in my own release.
Then the next day she seemed distant. Like we'd never had that night of passion. Like we'd always led our life this way. It clawed inside me, to ask her what I'd asked her that night.
What about that thing you like? Being watched?
As usual though, the only way I found to express that notion was by trying to have more sex. I met with some resistance, most of the time. That, as usual, only made me want it more. I began to pout, something I knew she found particularly unappealing but something I couldn't help. I'd try to mate at the strangest times. While she was doing laundry in the basement, or changing sheets for the coming guests. The closer their arrival drew, the more I felt the need to claim her, and the more urgent my need became to know her thoughts.
Finally, as I made another advance while she was making lunch, I pushed her to her limit and caused her to explode.
"John, stop it! You've been walking around pouting for the last three days then trying to get me to crawl into bed with you! I hate that!"
She was right. But it hurt to hear it spoken nonetheless.
"Well you haven't exactly been friendly either!" I countered, trying to split the blame for my moodiness down the middle.
"Because you've been in a mood this whole time!" she said, waving her arms to indicate the vast expanse of my depression. "What is going on?!?"
What was going on? I knew more or less what was going on, or at least what was causing me to act the way I was. I wasn't sure if I was ready for her to know it, too.
"Rebecca..." I began. My mouth stayed open but no words came out. How to start?
I could see that she was searching my expression, the same way I would search her eyes to see what I could find there. Something about the way she looked right then, how concerned she was, made me want to come clean.
"I've been having...thoughts."
Whatever. It was a start.
She graciously softened her expression and shook her head. "Thoughts about what?"
I took a deep breath. Where to start? "You remember when we met?" I asked, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice.
"Of course I remember when we met," she offered, but softly. Like she didn't want a fight any more than I did.
"You remember what you said to me?"
She blushed. She blushed! Rebecca didn't blush!
"John, that was a long time ago..." I watched her eyes follow her mind into the past.
"It wasn't that long ago." I felt better now. Her blush had somehow made me feel better. Like I had a little bit of control over myself again. "You said you saw me watching you."
She turned her eyes down in shame. Most likely at what had happened after she said it than at the fact she'd said it at all.
I faltered for a second, worried that she wouldn't reciprocate my honesty. But having come this far gave me courage, and I didn't want to stop.
"Okay look, maybe it's just me, but..."
She looked up and her eyes were big and curious, almost looking nervous at what I was about to say.
"...it felt like things were...different lately?"
Her face didn't relax completely. Cautiously curious.
"What do you mean?"
For fuck's sake. Why did I have to be the one that said it?
"Didn't you think that sex was kind of...hotter the last few times? Maybe?"
I watched her soften at the memory and it filled me with relief.
"I guess. So?"
Really? She was going to make me spell it out?
"Did that have anything to do with..." I cleared my throat. This part could go either way. "Andre?"
"Andre?!?" she asked, looking at me like I'd just killed a cute, small, furry animal with my bare hands. This was making me want to give up.
"I just thought that..."
"Why would you say that?!? About Andre?!?" There was shock there now, and what else? Fear?
"Okay Rebecca. Fine. Let's pretend neither of us felt anything different and that none of this ever happened." I turned around and started to walk away because I wasn't going to be the one solely responsible for fucking everything up.
"Wait." Her voice sounded like she was ready for us to fuck it up together. "I have to tell you something."
Oh fuck. The way she said it, the...was it regret that made it sound the way it did? Whatever it was it made me cold all of a sudden and stuck to the floor, not daring to turn around and see the face that went with that sound. I did, finally. I turned around to see her small and humble and penitent. Oh fuck no.
"Okay," I managed even though my throat was tight.
She looked up and it looked like she might cry and half of me wanted to hug her and the other half...I don't know what that other half was doing but it was turning my stomach upside down and inside out, just watching her there. "Is this bad?" I added, my voice barely a whisper.
Her tiny nod, that restrained admission of her guilt made me brace myself for what I was about to hear.
"Just say it."
"John..."
Fuck. Just say it.
"...I smoked with him."
I didn't really know what disappointed. relief could feel like until just then. My nerves, the ones that had stopped working and focused entirely on what she was going to say, suddenly released inside me with a shiver and the tension that I needed to expel came out in a laugh. A hearty, awkward laugh that made me warm.
"You're not mad?" she asked, like she couldn't believe my reaction.
Another deep breath. I was taking a lot of those lately. "I'm not mad. I'm relieved."
"Relieved? About me smoking?" She seemed genuinely confused, which only made my explanation feel more absurd. But it was what it was, I had to say it now.
"Beck, for some strange reason, I thought you two were..."
The grip of another panic came instantly as she looked down, her gaze skittering along the floor.
No. Rebecca, no. Did you? Why the fuck was this making me get hard?
"Rebecca?" Her name sounded like a foreign sound. "Did something happen?"
"He tried to kiss me," came in an
anxious whisper, with a bite of her lip.
Relief again but filled with excitement. "And did you?"
She let the question hang there, like a knife above our necks.
"No."
I breathed again. Then I ventured forward, the energy between us making me brave.
"Did you want to?"
"John..."
I stepped towards her, put my hands on her arms and looked deep into her eyes. Even if I couldn't bring myself to say it, I wanted her to know there was something there. It wasn't just a "no" I was looking for.
"Just tell me how you really feel," was what came out. I tried to drive it home with my stare. "Did you want to?"
"No," she said, then hesitated. "...but kind of yes?"
I was unprepared for that sweet, warm punch in the gut that hit me at hearing it. Of course it had been brewing as a fantasy for so long, but to finally hear her say it was something that took me by surprise. She must have noticed it by my expression.
"I don't know why I said that," she added quickly, looking up at me with imploring eyes, like she needed forgiveness.
"Let's have a drink," I countered, making sure she knew I wasn't too upset. Once we'd both calmed ourselves with scotch and sat down at the table, everything felt safer. At least for me.
"The thing is," I began. I couldn't help a chuckle at how absurd this was going to sound. "The thing is that I've been thinking about what you said when we met a lot lately."
"You have?" she countered, with more than just a note of interest in her tone.
"I have. I guess...I don't know, that just stuck with me and the thing is Beck...I am just so obsessed with you that even when you're not around, I'm thinking of you."
She smiled and tilted her head in that way she always did when she thought I was being sweet.
"It's true," I went on, "but wait! There's more!" I stuck a finger up into the air and she gladly accepted my invitation at a chance to laugh. "Here's the thing, see," I went on, when she'd had her chuckle. "Even though it was kind of crushing me inside, that there might be something going on, I don't know..." I drifted off into my own mind, not sure how to finish what I'd started. There was really only one way to do it. "It kind of...turned me on. You know?"